Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones

The Song of Builders

By Jojobevco

Chapter 4

The North is Reminded

AN: Sorry for the delay, I had to get my computer fixed.

AN2: Appropriate musical accompaniment for the fights at the end of this chapter is "The Throne is Mine" from the Season 2 Soundtrack of Game of Thrones. Or for a more nonchalant experience, "The Pointy End" from Season 1, focusing on the backbeat.

The Walls of the Red Keep

King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros

Lord Tyrion Lannister, Acting Hand of the 'King' and Senior Agent of the Builders arrived at the celebration of his twice-nephew Joffrey's nameday. He was leading a group of Lannister Guards and hill tribes. As he arrived, he saw two members of the Kingsguard drag away the twitching body of Ser Dontos Hollard. Behind him, Podrick looked at the body in disgust, while Bronn chuckled.

Joffrey laughed at his joke, "He drunk his fill."

Tyrion approached the podium, "Beloved Nephew! We looked for you on the battlefield, but you were nowhere to be found."

King Joffrey stuttered, "I've been here, ruling the kingdoms."

"Yes and tearing apart King's Landing looking for three lost wolves," Tyrion looked at Ser Dontos's body that had finally stopped twitching, "And ending a house as old as the Age of Heroes." Tyrion then turned to the two younger children, "Myrcella, you will be more beautiful than your mother one day. Tommen, you're already taller than I am!"

Joffrey remarked, drawing attention back to him, "I am glad you came to celebrate my nameday."

"Enjoy it, nephew. I must go."

"To do what?"

Overthrow you, Tyrion thought, but said aloud, "Oh, this and that. Nothing you'd find interesting, Nephew."

As they walked into the Red Keep after greeting Joffrey, Podrick, mindful of the role he had to play, asked, "My lord, is the king always so…"

"Violent? Yes. He once he killed a pregnant kitchen cat in an effort to impress King Robert. I assure you; King Robert didn't find it as impressive as Joffrey did."

They arrived at the Small Council Chamber. Tyrion directed everyone to remain outside, and then entered, muttering to Podrick, "This is going to be more fun than I've had in a long time."

The Godswood

Winterfell, The North, Westeros

Acting Lord of Winterfell Bran Stark was taking his daily carry through the Godswood, while talking to his loyal assistant, Osha.

"I heard some men talking about the comet. They say it is an omen."

Had Osha been a worse actress, she would have promptly face palmed. She, Harry, and a few others had been up most the night trying to figure out what the sudden appearance of a red comet meant. While Astronomy in the Wizarding World was more advanced than even the 21st century muggle equivalent, they still had extraordinarily little idea about it; a red colored comet had never been seen in Earth's history. They did a survey with very inconclusive and rather conflicting results. For those in the South, it meant that the Lannisters would win. For those in the North, it meant that the Starks would win. They decided to go with the one explanation that made any sense: dragons.

Daenerys Targaryen's Khalasar

Deep within the Red Waste, Essos

Daenerys Targeryen was frustrated. Her diminished, but still determined, Khalasar was currently trapped in the Red Waste. To the north were the Lazarheen, who would kill them and take her dragons. To the west were rival Khals that would kill her and take her dragons. That left only two directions, east and south. Daenerys dispatched Bloodriders in both directions and cursed Harry Potter for leaving her again. Even though he had given them extensive provisions, especially water, Daenerys was still irritated. She had expected him to stick around, given that he had effectively bought her life and that of the entire Targaryen line.

Daenerys turned to look at Rheago, who slept on her arm as they rested in the shade provided by hung cloths. She then turned to her baby dragons nearby. Unfortunately, she had no idea what to feed them. They would only eat meat, but apparently not the meat she had on her. She had asked Harry before he left, to which he just replied, "What are dragons famous for?" Daenerys continued to ponder, privately wondering if even Lord Harry didn't know. Still, all the babies looked to be doing okay, so she kept her worries to herself.

Craster's Keep

North of the Wall, Westeros

Jeor Mormont had noted that Craster seems to have mellowed in his old age. He was almost polite to the Night's Watch (almost polite being a vast improvement in his manners), although he kept reminding them about not talking to his daughters.

"Where have all the Wildings gone?"

Craster replied, "North, near the Fist of the First Men. They have joined together under Mance Rayder, your old friend."

Jeor snapped, "He's no friend of mine. He broke his vows, betrayed his brothers."

Craster chuckled, "His brothers, yes, them."

"Why now?"

Craster looked directly at Jon Snow, "Winter is Coming," He turned back to Mormont, "The Thenn have rallied."

"Why?"

Craster chuckled, "To march on The Wall."

"Why?" Jeor was becoming frustrated. He hated having to drag information out of that crotchety, lecherous old man, especially when it was information he needed.

Craster was serious, "This is one winter when no one wants to be North of the Wall."

Jeor sighed, "I take it that you are staying?"

Craster shook his head, "No, we will leave soon as well."

Jeor was surprised "But the Others," Of course, no one except Craster could hear the capitalization of 'Others.'

"We have broken with them. It was a mistake."

Jeor nodded, confused; he was expecting Craster to offer to let them stay the night, like he usually did. Tonight, apparently, was different.

Craster continued, "You should be going, Lord Crow."

Jeor nodded at his men. They began preparing to leave at his command. He shook his head and sighed; they'd be grumbling all the way to the Fist because of this. They would have to take it slow the next couple of days to make up for the lost rest.

Fifty-Eight Minutes Later

Craster and his wives sat around the Keep, waiting.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a woman entering, wearing Wildling furs, and a Wildling-styled sword that looked fine at first glance. At a second glance, the sword looked slightly off. Its quality was much better than the average Wildling sword. The woman had fiery red hair, and she spoke with textbook perfect Received Pronunciation.

"They are gone."

Craster nodded as his face bubbled and transformed back into Lord Harry Potter's. Harry was relieved; had the interview lasted much longer, he would have had to take more Polyjuice. Craster's essence tasted terrible. He turned first to the ladies surrounding him, looking each of them in the eye. "Ladies, I thank you for your assistance in this matter," he said. He threw out a rope. "Grab on."

When each of them held onto the rope, most smiling with relief, Harry tapped it with his wand and they disappeared in the flash of a portkey.

Harry then turned back to the woman at the door. This was Colonel Ygritte, Commander of the Fist's Snow Fox Unit. Considered the elite of the Army of the Fist, the Snow Foxes served as the Builder's special operations force. They were all trained extensively in several different styles of infiltration, interrogation, and combat. Their training was the most grueling in the world; in some ways, it was even more grueling than the legendary Unsullied. Their combat record was impeccable and, with the exception of a few Thenn engagements, completely classified.

"Ygritte, your forces?"

Ygritte was not surprised by her Supreme Commander's use of her first name. He was one of the Snow Foxes principal instructors, and her mentor. "For the moment, we are following the Ranging at a discreet distance."

"Once they get to the Fist, track Jon Snow. If he leaves on a patrol, you know what to do. The spells on your clothes will make people second guess attacking your unit, but you'll have to do some fast talking to get out of it. Jon Snow is not to be harmed under any circumstances."

Ygritte nodded and grinned. She loved a challenge. "And the other members of the Night's Watch?"

"Disable them and send them to the Fist. We'll sit on them until I formally introduce myself to their good Lord Commander. Don't kill them if you can avoid it. If you can't avoid it, burn the bodies."

Ygritte agreed and formally asked, "Anything else, Lord Potter?"

"No. Dismissed, Colonel."

Ygritte saluted and left.

Harry stood and waved his wand, packing up the remains of Craster's home. Craster had been dead for years: executed by the Builders for treason against humanity. His wives continued to live here, under the protection and support of the Fist's patrols. They were provided with the capability to signal for assistance whenever the Night's Watch came. Whenever they did, a Builder under polyjuice would come and play the role of Craster. However, it was now time for Craster to disappear for good. The Builders were too busy to keep up the charade.

After Harry shrunk down what was left of Craster and his wives' belongings, he pocketed them. Turning on his heel, he Apparated home.

The Stark Host

Near Riverrun, The Riverlands, Westeros

Ned stepped out of his tent to an overcast, grey day. It suited his mood. Harry's portkey had conveniently dropped him off right outside the camp about a week ago, and the following week had been difficult. Tactically and strategically they were winning; however, they were rather stuck. They were an army with no goal or objective. The moment Ned returned; he had quickly stamped out any notion of the whole "King in the North" bit. However, this left the army without an objective. Eventually, they had settled on pressing their advantage into the Westerlands and attempting to figure out the Baratheon issue. While Ned could not tell anyone, the situation was vastly complicated by what he knew from Essos. Given that the proper ruler was on the other side of the world, there was no one to support, which made the campaign into the Westerlands seem futile, at least to Ned. He wished he could tell them about Daenerys and the dragons; the North remembered dragons.

Ned cursed the Game of Thrones inwardly and pondered his options as he stomped through the mud toward their prisoner. Before he had formulated a plan, he arrived at his destination: Jamie Lannister's Cell. Much as he disliked Jamie, he was their prisoner, and they had certain obligations to his welfare.

"Hello, Ser Jamie."

Jamie chuckled, "Ah, Ned, how good of you to visit. I keep expecting you and your son to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping, but you keep dragging me along. Have you grown fond of me, Ned?"

"If we left you with one of our bannermen, your father would cajole them into releasing you through any means necessary," Ned replied calmly.

Jamie snorted, "You don't trust them?"

Ned smiled, "I trust them with my life, just not with yours. Rest assured if I did not need you, you would already be dead, Kingslayer."

"Oh?"

"You have performed unholy congress with your sister and have created an abomination who now pretends to be king. This entire situation can be placed entirely on your and Cersei's shoulders."

Eddard turned and left, heading back for his Command Tent, where his officers waited with Ser Alton Lannister. He had settled on a list of demands the night before: return of the Stark Household dead, Joffrey and his men stay out of the north, and all of Cersei's children, especially Joffrey, be admitted as Bastards. The final demand would undoubtedly infuriate the Lannisters and ensure that those demands would not be met. That was what he wanted. After all, Harry's plan could be summed up in one word. Stall.

Chambers of the Hand of the King, The Red Keep

King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros

Lord Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, and Senior Agent of the Builders was confused. Confusion was not one of his preferred states of mind. So, he drank more wine, and sat in his chambers, watching Shae look out at King's Landing. His confusion had to do with an area he claimed expertise, which made it even more uncomfortable. Normally, he would qualify himself as an expert on women. In the past two weeks, he had experienced different relationships with two different women: two complicated relationships that he had no idea what to do about.

On the surface, he pondered, Lady Sansa Stark was a simple girl. Beautiful, but with the sheltered experience of a well-raised, high-born girl who had not yet reached adulthood. At the same time, she carried an unspeakable burden of guilt. Dozens of people died because of a decision she made, a decision that required the Builders' intervention to avert total disaster. Even they were only partly successful; a lot of damage had been done before they intervened. As a result, she had found a strength and intelligence that would otherwise be wasted. She was, Tyrion judged, a good woman, or would be.

Shae on the other hand was an enigma. Tyrion was enamored with her from the moment they met. Perhaps it was the feeling of doom he had experienced the night of the battle, but even now, there was something about her that Tyrion found enchanting. When he returned to the Fist, however, Tyrion was more thoughtful about their relationship. The more thoughtful he got, the more suspicious he was. So, he made a few inquiries, all perfectly natural for an unknown person so close to a critical operation. The Fist's intelligence's conclusions were more like a process of elimination than anything else: they knew more about what she was not than what she actually was. They knew she was not one of Varys's, Baelish's, or Cersei's agents. Agents in Essos had never heard of her, so no one really knew who she was.

Tyrion's own assessment of her was rather empty. He knew that she had been accustomed to pain, although he speculated it was some sort of intentional training. He knew her mother was not a prostitute and that her father was either dead or uninvolved in her life, and that she was extremely protective of her family. He had made the mistake of telling her about Tysha; although it did not seem to change how she reacted to him, it did seem to warm her slightly. She was very defensive of being called a whore and had practically badgered him into taking her to King's Landing. For the foreseeable future, he would keep her far, far away from his builder responsibilities and his family.

The Stark Host

Near Riverrun, The Riverlands, Westeros

Ned stalked out of the tent into a light rain after giving Alton Lannister their demands, and after quickly dismissing the prospects of an alliance with either the Greyjoys or the Baratheons. He was stopped by a young woman.

"My Lord?"

Ned turned around and was faced with a young, exotic, intelligent beauty. He knew everyone in the camp by sight and they were all male. Having a woman in camp startled him. "My Lady, I'm sure one of my other officers can-" Ned stopped short. He had finally noticed what the young lady was holding. It was just a simple leather billfold. He saw on the front a symbol of a phoenix on a fist embossed into the leather. He knew that sigil. Ned reached out, took it, and opened it. Instead of a letter, as he was expecting, the billfold contained a gold badge like the badge he wore as Hand of the King. The similarities ended there. Instead of the symbol of the Hand, it was a symbol of a phoenix in flight, with the words "Serving those who Build" engraved beneath it. The other side of the billfold was a piece of parchment, which was apparently impervious to damage.

"This badge certifies Lady Talisa Maegyr as an Agent of the Builders of the Wall. All True Allies, Agents, Forces, Subsidiaries, and Subjects of the Builders are requested and required to provide any aid and assistance requested.

"Signed, Harry of House Potter, Commander of the Builders, Lord of the Fist, Ruler of the Lands Beyond the Wall."

Ned handed the billfold back to the Agent and replied, "How can I help you, Lady Mageyr?"

"Lord Harry would like for you to send an envoy to Renly Baratheon and recommends sending Robb. Allegedly, this is to form an alliance, but really it is because we need information. We need to know what the Baratheons are doing and why Renly declared for himself and not Stannis. The best way to find that out is to have eyes there."

Eddard nodded, "I don't like lying but it is intelligence we need as well. Very well, I will send you and Robb."

"Me? Lord Stark, I have been assigned to be your liaison within this camp."

Ned countered, "Robb is much too honorable for this and he would have no idea what to look for. You would. We need you there more than we need you here."

Talisa nodded, "Very well."

" You need to know that as far as Robb knows, Lord Harry is the only surviving member of an old House far to the North, and an 'old friend of the family.' Do not disabuse him of that notion."

Talisa nodded, expecting something like this. "You are the Keeper of the Relationship. I won't disabuse him."

Ned then bowed slightly, "Safe travels, my Lady." He turned and started the walk back to his tent.

Secret Solar of the Builders of the Wall, The Red Keep

King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros

"Now the next one is actually one of your Mother's: House Tully's Riverland White. It's a blend of several whites, supposedly to make it a bit less crisp and a bit more palatable with a meal."

Sansa took a slow sip, swallowed, and nodded. Currently, she was sitting in the luxurious solar of the Builders of the Wall in King's Landing. Hidden behind some sort of enchantments, it provided a variety of services to the Agents in the city. She was accompanied by Tyrion Lannister, who was educating her on the finer points of wine, and Captain Karsi, her new unarmed combat instructor. Unlike the many soldiers at the Fist who wore either plate armor or some of the finest, crispest clothes she had ever seen, Karsi wore vague attire that would allow her to fit in practically anywhere in King's Landing. The only strange difference was a small snow fox sewn on to the arm of her shirt. Karsi was here technically as a guard, but also as a chaperone, which seemed to amuse Tyrion to no end.

"Now the next vintage from House Tully is a bit fishy."

Sansa nodded, taking the glass. The joke sailed over her depressed head.

Tyrion's next attempt at making her laugh was cut short. The door banged open. Immediately, Captain Karsi reached for her sword, ready to defend Sansa—and maybe Tyrion. Podrick Payne stepped in.

"Lord Tyrion, Lady Sansa, Captain Karsi, we have a problem. The City Watch has started killing all the black-haired bastards in the city."

Sansa gasped. Karsi's eyes hardened. Tyrion looked startled.

"Someone is purging Robert's bastards!" Tyrion shouted. "Pod, you and Captain Karsi get to Littlefinger's brothel now and back up the Agent there, now!"

They both nodded and ran out the door into the labyrinth of secret passages throughout the Red Keep and King's Landing.

Tyrion went to the desk, wrote a quick note, and handed it to Sansa before shoving her toward the fireplace, "Return to the Fist and give that note to Lord Harry."

Sansa nodded, gave Tyrion a last look before entering the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of powder and throwing it, she shouted, "The Fist!"

She disappeared in a flash of green flame.

Lord Peter Baelish's Brothel

King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros

Ros, high priced prostitute, brothel matron, and Agent of the Builders saw the Gold Cloaks coming. She ran toward Mhaegen's room and threw open the door, startling her.

"Ros?"

Ros shook her head, "There's no time. The Gold Cloaks are here for Barra." She pulled off her necklace and handed it to Mhaegan as she picked up the infant Barra and pressed her into Mhaegan's arms.

"Now say, 'I Serve the Builders.'"

Mhaegan asked, confused, "I serve the builders?" before disappearing in a flash.

Ros checked the position of her knife under her robe. She may not be able to take all of them, but they would not take her alive. She calmly walked back out into the main room and greeted Janos Slynt.

"Lord Commander, good to see you again." Ros watched as they started banging through the brothel, "You do realize this establishment is owned by Lord Petyr Baelish, the King's Master of Coin. Coin which goes into many pockets."

Slynt curtly replied, "Orders."

"Whose orders?"

"Someone who doesn't care what Littlefinger thinks."

A Gold Cloak returned and reported, "She isn't here."

Slynt turned to Ros, "Where is she?"

Ros asked, "Who? We have several 'she's' on staff here."

Slynt roared, "The whore with the bastard."

Ros calmly replied, "Can you be more specific? Several of our…ah, clients…have left things behind."

Slynt backhanded her, knocking her to the ground. Ros rolled with it, moving to all fours as Slynt and his team moved in, growling, "You know who I'm talking about."

Ros replied, "No, I really don't." Slynt furiously kicked her in the stomach. Ros hammed it up a bit, collapsing to the floor and breathing heavily.

Just as Slynt opened his mouth again, he started gurgling and spitting up blood. He collapsed to the floor, revealing Podrick Payne standing behind him. Podrick moved like lightning, stabbing the Gold Cloak to the right while drawing a dagger and stabbing the one on his left. Their shouts drew another three Gold Cloaks out of one of the Brothel's rooms they had been searching. Podrick spun to face them, parrying their weapons with smooth strokes as he stabbed one in the back, nearly decapitated a second, and disabled the third with a stab to the shoulder. Podrick calmly slit the throats of the two he had disabled. He then spun and faced the other room as Karsi came out, calmly wiping her blade.

"That's all of them."

Podrick chuckled and helped Ros to her feet, asking, "Barra?"

Ros rubbed her stomach as she answered, "Safely back at the Fist with her mother. I had to use my emergency escape portkey though."

Podrick nodded, "I'll see to it that you get a new one."

Karsi commented, "I hate to state the obvious, but we just killed the Lord Commander of the City Watch while he was carrying out the orders of either the 'King' or the Queen Regent. This isn't going to blow over."

Podrick rubbed his chin, "No, it's not, but we're going to turn it to our advantage." He took on a noble, somber countenance, "These loyal members of the City Watch were killed by free riders in service to Lord Petyr Baelish in defense of his property." Podrick then smirked, "And this is how we're going to do it…"

Daenerys Targaryen's Khalasar

Deep within the Red Waste, Essos

Dany's eyes widened, before turning to Irri, "Start a fire, and grill some meat for the dragons."

Irri nodded and left Dany with her thoughts. Harry's riddle had been such an easy puzzle once she had solved it. How could she rule if she couldn't solve a simple riddle?

Sword Practice Room

The Fist of the First Men

North of the Wall, Westeros

Wooden swords clashed with a resounding THWACK! Harry sent General Tormund Giantsbane reeling before turning back to Arya as Tormund rallied and came back into the fray. Harry stepped back slightly to get both in his sights. He didn't have long. Arya came at him, sword low, preparing for a thrust. Harry parried, using his attack momentum to spin her around. His attack worked. Arya was "dead." He shoved her in Tormund's direction, who knocked her aside and charged Harry furiously, sword swinging. Harry smoothly blocked the attack before catching Tormund off guard with a strike to his knee, sending him tumbling. He gently pressed the wooden sword against Tormund's neck.

"And, dead. All in just over…two and a half minutes." Harry waved his right hand and looked out at something neither Arya nor Tormund could see. "That wasn't bad, exactly, but it's not good either." With over 7,938 years of experience on them, Arya and the general could not hope to defeat Harry in single or even dual combat. Their success, therefore, was determined by how long they survived.

General Giantsbane, Deputy Commander of the Army of the Fist scoffed and looked at his partner. The Three-Star was decidedly not impressed. Although, he had to admit, that little Stark girl had a lot of raw talent in the field of Water Dancing.

Arya scoffed right back, "I've been learning for less than a year, so don't look at me like that."

Harry was about to launch into his evaluation of the fight when a soldier ran into the room, panting, "Lord Harry! Apologies, my lord, but Lady Sansa has returned with an urgent dispatch for you from King's Landing." He stood there, hands on his knees and trying to get his breath back. His duty was done, so he felt no shame in taking a minute to quiet the burning in his lungs.

Harry glanced at the girl and the General, ordering them to follow before breaking into a brisk jog to the Arrival Room.

The Arrival Room was the only room in the Fist that allowed direct access to Non-Builders. Inside were three fireplaces and four portkey landing areas. It was staffed around the clock by eight guards and an excellent medical team to assist arriving agents. As Harry entered, the guards snapped to attention. The Arrival Room was bedlam; only the guards seemed unruffled and alert. On the floor, medics swarmed, shouted, and occasionally swore as they tried to treat the mother and calm the child on the floor in the center of the room. Harry glanced over, noting it was Barra and her mother. There was no agent with them. He then turned to Sansa, who simply handed him a note, scrabbled in a hurry.

Lord Harry,

Joffrey or Cersei are murdering all King Robert's Bastards in King's Landing. Captain Karsi and Pod are on their way to render assistance at Littlefinger's. It is likely that they will discover Gendry and send the City Watch after him. Suggest Gendry is relocated to the Fist immediately.

Best,

Tyrion

Harry looked at the medical team, who had finally managed to calm Mhaegan and were working on calming Barra. "Escort Barra and her mother to the medical wing and see to them," he ordered. The medical team nodded, escorting a now shell-shocked Mhaegan. One of the team carried a fretful Barra. Harry then turned to Sansa. "Sansa, return to King's Landing. I'm posting you and Captain Karsi there until further notice to support Tyrion and Pod." Walking over to a nearby table, he scribbled a quick note to Tyrion and handed it to Sansa. Gesturing to the closest fireplace, he watched Sansa disappear in a flash. Harry then looked to Tormund. "General Giantsbane, I am leaving; you will have the command of the Fist until I return. I will let you know as soon as I have more information." Giantsbane nodded and gave a short bow, before stepping out of the Arrival Room to prepare for Harry's departure. Finally, he smiled at Arya. "Arya, how would you like some practical field experience?"

Arya smiled slightly and replied, "Sounds like fun."

AN:

Why did you cut most of the Craster's Keep Arc?

I needed Harry elsewhere. Jeor's slowing down balances the timeline.

Subsidiaries?

Now that would be telling.

Podrick is really too good at fighting.

No, he's not. Besides, I remind you of the advantages of Water Dancing. Syrio Forel beat four of the Lannister's top guards and held off a member of the Kingsguard (albeit Meryn Trant) with a wooden practice sword.