Chapter 3 is here, sorry for the delay. Please vote on the poll I have up on my profile, concerning who should win the rebellion. Mostly out of curiosity, don't know if I'll make it so.
Storm's End, 282 AC.
As Robert predicted it took them a little less than three days to reach Storm's End; the ancestral seat of House Baratheon.
It was an impressive sight to behold as it slowly grew bigger and bigger with their approach. Storm's End was surrounded by a massive outer curtain wall, one hundred feet high and forty feet thick on its thinnest side and nearly eighty feet thick on its seaward side. It was composed of a double course of pale grey stone with an inner core of sand and rubble. The wall was smooth and curving, the stones so well placed and so perfectly fit together that the wind could find no purchase.
There was only one single tower, a colossal drum tower crowned with formidable battlements, making it look like a huge, spiked fist thrusting towards the sky. In fact, the tower was so large that it comfortably contained the granary, barracks, armoury, feast hall and lord's chamber all at once, according to the gossip of the common folk.
Harry could even feel some magic woven into the stonework. Obviously it was nothing overtly impressive like the wards of Hogwarts, but enough to protect and make the structure withstand thousands of years of erosion from the elements. 'There's even something equivalent to the Anti-Apparition ward and a little bit more.' Harry thought, observing the castle sitting on the precipice of a sheer cliff, having heard the gossip of soldiers and others about the fortress.
Right now he and Bellatrix were with the rest of the supply train, at the end of the army and making camp outside the castle. Surrounded by their only real company of the last few days; the camp followers. Or whores, a description they were better known by. Well, those and Meribald. Unsurprisingly Harry got along better with the muggles than Bellatrix did, who simply viewed them as worthless trash.
"It seems Robert is a man of vice and excess." Harry commented idly as he prepared to erect their tent, trying to hide his exhaustion. He watched the huge young man grope a whore while clad in only his leathers. Not to mention the amount of alcohol the man consumed on a daily basis. Right now it wouldn't have much of an effect due to his youth, but later in life the habit would be debilitating.
Bellatrix scowled while Meribald simply nodded, saying. "Yes, it's a very well known fact for anyone that knows of him." there even were rumours floating about of a few bastards of Robert running around in the Vale of Arryn.
Harry found it distasteful, but he couldn't begrudge the man his limited entertainment. In a society as medieval as this one seemed to be there weren't many pleasant distractions around. Though, Harry would not entertain the possibility of catching some kind of disease from whores.
"Sorcerer!" the Lord of Storm's end bellowed as he approached them, making Harry wonder if the man had only one volume. "Hurry up or we're gonna be late!"
"Late for what?" asked Harry slightly baffled. During the rest of the trip the man hadn't interacted with them all that much. Most likely due to his vassals understandable strong dislike of them. Harry didn't think his group would be invited inside with the rest of the nobles and knights. Their status being more in line with the camp followers than nobility.
Undeterred Robert replied. "For the feast, of course!" he laughed heartily and slapped Harry on the back, surely leaving a bruise. "Now, come on!"
Seeing no other alternative, Harry leapt at the chance to catch some breath away from Bellatrix. He made the finishing touches to erect the tent and followed the huge man. Though, before he did so Harry gave Delphini a kiss on her forehead, eliciting a giggle from the infant. With practised ease he evaded Bellatrix' attempt at a hug, still not trusting the woman.
"I'll see you later." was the only thing he said, leaving the dejected woman waving at him from behind. A small part of him felt terrible for it, but he dismissed that foolish notion quickly.
Through the massive main gate they went, Harry the only one feeling the probing wards wash over them as they did so. Inside he could see the yard, stables and kitchens. The latter was aglow with fire and busy while servants went to and from in preparation of the feast.
Though, what captured Harry's interest was the bone white tree with five-pointed leaves of crimson. On its bark was carved a solemn face, the crevices it had for eyes were weeping sap the colour of blood. The wizard could tell immediately that the deciduous tree was magical in nature. Already thinking of collecting some wood samples for a wand, or other potential potion ingredients.
Before the tower stood a retinue of servants, with a serious looking young man in front of them that was equally as large as Robert, with the same eyes and hair, but he possessed a prominent widow's peak. Beside him, holding his hand, was a young boy that couldn't be older than four of five. Also sharing a striking resemblance to the Lord of Storm's End.
"Robby!" the small boy exclaimed in wild happiness, abandoning the hand of the larger boy to run towards Robert with raised arms.
"Renly!" came the admonishing voice of what Harry assumed was Robert's brother.
The huge man greeted the small boy with a huge grin, picking the small tyke up in his arms and throwing him in the air before catching him.
Renly squealed in delight, laughter echoing throughout the yard. "Did you beat the bad men?" the boy asked once he was sitting on a single humongous arm of his big brother.
"Of course I did!" Robert assured the child with exaggerated flair. "I even fought a sorcerer and more!" he boasted loudly.
"Really?!" the tyke's blue eyes were shining like mountain lakes. His imagination running wild most likely.
That spurred the other one into action again, teeth grinding against each other. "Do you have to fill his head with such delusion?!" he snapped.
"Bah, don't be such a stick in the mud, Stannis." Robert complained, rolling his blue eyes. "Besides, I've got proof with me you'll see later." he smiled self-assured. "For now we've got a feast to get to!" the shout caused cheers to erupt all around him.
With that the conversation was deemed over, leaving Stannis to stand there and grind his teeth before reluctantly following and complaining. "We're at war! Everyday a siege could happen."
"Thanks for reminding me. I hadn't noticed" came the sarcastic reply of Robert, eliciting laughter from the people around while basically ignoring Stannis with his back turned to him as he walked away.
"Then you should know we can't afford..." the voices grew quiet and vanished as they entered the tower, leaving Harry to stand alone in the yard. None of the other bystanders shared his baffled look.
With a shrug he finally followed, or tried to at least. Guards with frowns and sneers directed at him interfered, crossing their spears before the entrance. "Where are you going?! Your kind doesn't belong here."
"I was invited by Robert." Harry replied mildly, feeling the tiredness in his bones as he stared at them. Though, he was unable to expend the energy to be bothered by this.
"That's Lord Baratheon to you!" the same guard sneered.
Another guard spat, a tremble in his voice. "Try the kitchens with the other servants instead." a shaking hand gestured away from the tower towards the kitchens, where all the servants came from.
With a shrug he did so, not in the mood for festivities anyway.
Clumsily evading the literal flood servants proved somewhat difficult a task, but he somehow managed to gain passage inside. Immediately a myriad of smells simultaneously clashed and mingled in the fragrant steam spilling from the massive kitchen. Butter, oil, garlic, aromatic herbs, sharp spices; all warred for dominance of his senses. Flames licked at copper pots, simmering with sauces and stocks, while chefs bustled along the line of hissing pans and gleaming knives.
The hearth blazed merrily in this cacophonous but homey room, replete with savoury food smells, the clatter of dishes, and the clash of utensils. Dishes changed hands quickly as bowls were filled, platters of meat assembled, sauces seasoned, and garnishes applied. The forceful voice of a corpulent cook echoed throughout, his speech punctuated now and again with the crash of his heavy wooden ladle into the side of the pot-bellied stove. Beneath the fracas and controlled chaos, a fat cat lied contentedly licking its paws, well paid for its service in keeping the kitchen free of vermin.
Connected to the kitchen was the mess hall for servants. Here the feasting tables stretched the length of the cavernous room, the benches offering enough space for everyone to break bread and share stories together.
"What can I do for ye, m'lord?" a matronly woman asked as she approached him, moving throughout the kitchen with the clear experience of a professional. The demeanour was only enhanced by her food-spattered smock, reminding him of Molly Weasley in more ways than one. Though, she appeared to grow fearful as she noticed him properly, or she was simply unnerved by his mismatched gaze, like so many apparently were.
Harry briefly wondered why she'd assume him to be a lord. Only to then remember that he probably looked like one. In a society such as Westeros, straight white teeth, clear skin, clean hair and clothes were signifiers of wealth and status. Not to mention the fact that he arrived with the army of the Stormlands.
Deciding to not correct her, he told her. "I'd just like to have something to eat in a quiet corner." motioning towards the massive tower outside the window, he added. "A loud feast isn't really a place for me right now."
"Of course." she bowed slightly, but seemed unsure what to do with him. So she led him to one of the empty tables inside the kitchens. It didn't take long for the food to arrive, consisting of slices of fresh bread, beef-and-barley stew together with a mug of dark ale. Not quite Harry's taste, but it beat hardtack the consistency of a ceramic tile.
Soon the festivity was in full swing, with alcohol flowing freely and bawdy songs being slurred all over the place. Harry wasn't a true part of the conviviality, more a spectator than anything else. Evidently tales of his exploits were already circulating around, with people giving him a wide berth and shooting him suspicious glances. Not that the wizard had any inclination to join in with the muggles. Neither did he feel all that comfortable here for that matter. Only doing it to gain more insight into this new world.
'This whole situation is a mess.' he thought after finishing his meal, taking a last sip from his wooden mug. Once more thinking about simply grabbing Delphini and leaving Bellatrix behind, start a new life somewhere else in this unfamiliar place. The problem with that was the fact that he had no idea about this society. Not to mention his growing infamy, something that only served as a painful reminder of his past.
He was brought out of his reverie by Stannis Baratheon entering the kitchen, looking very displeased at all the food being cooked. Interestingly enough Harry could feel some magic inside the middle brother of the Baratheon family, however weak it was. Behind him stood an old man with white hair on a balding head and a long beard, who was maybe in his sixties.
"Lord Stannis, Maester, what brings ye here?" the same matronly woman who had given Harry his seat asked.
The austere young man surveyed the jolly air with pursed lips and a critical eye. Though, it was the old man that finally answered. "Tansy, good to see you. We simply wanted to inquire if you could at least reduce the portion sizes. What's left of our larder from winter is declining rapidly. Spring was just announced and we haven't had a harvest yet."
"I'm sorry, Maester, but Lord Robert ordered that I'm to prepare this much food for the feast." Tansy seemed apologetic as she said that, going back to her cooking shortly after.
Stannis clenched his jaw tightly, his hands curling into fists, exploding at the poor old man. "So it's more important to see these traitors fed than prepare for a possible siege?" he seethed, not noticing Harry observing them. Not too long ago half of these people were traitors to their liege lord. Yet a voice whispered in his head that they were loyal to their king.
The wizard perked up at that, sensing an opportunity. 'I can try and get into people's good graces! Maybe even get some positive publicity.' it was worth a shot to do so. Not that Harry expected them to invite him to live in their lands anytime soon. Without waiting he sprung up and approached the pair, thinking it worth a try. "Excuse me... my lord!" he called out, remembering to add the last part just in time.
"What do you want?!" Stannis demanded brusquely, arms crossed in front of him. Clearly not in the mood for any amiable talk.
Undeterred by that, Harry introduced himself. "I'm Harry Peverell and I couldn't help but overhear your predicament."
"Peverell, the sorcerer my brother spoke of?" Stannis raised an eyebrow, inspecting a nodding Harry from head to toe. "From what I've heard you should be at least ten feet tall, with three heads, forked tongues and fire for eyes." there was clear derision but also curiosity in his words, as well as a certain expectation in his eyes.
Harry snorted at that, smiling in amusement. Already used to rumours about him being anything but true from his time at Hogwarts. "Well, I think we both know that you can't trust the boasts of drunken men or the hearsay of people." his mismatched eyes glittered with mirth. "Is there a place where we might talk?"
"We're talking right now." came the no nonsense answer.
Harry nodded. "Yes, but I meant privately." he gestured to the room full of people. Some of them glancing their way, no doubt listening in a little. "I don't think you want to discuss the topic of people possibly starving out here in the open."
The only change that occurred with Stannis was that his frown got more severe. "Very well."
"Stannis!" the old man exclaimed. "You can't mean to entertain foolish notions such as magic."
"That's Lord Stannis to you, Maester Cressen." The young man gave the old man a slashing glance, making him wince. "If whatever he intends fails then we're in no more dire straights than we already are." his incredibly stony gaze rested on Cressen. "Half my brother's knights are afraid even to say his name, did you know? If he can do nothing else, a sorcerer who can inspire such dread in grown men is not to be despised. A frightened man is a beaten man. And perhaps he can do more. I mean to find out."
With that said he turned and motioned Harry to follow. The wizard did so, but not before snatching an empty horn of plenty normally used for decoration, an apple and an half-empty wooden mug from the kitchen.
From there the group of three went out of the kitchen and inside the massive tower. The guards in front could do nothing but stare impotently as Harry passed them. The same one from before was now trembling in his boots.
The enormous ground floor contained the granary, barracks and armoury. A circular stairway led upstairs to the Round Hall. Here brightly coloured banners hung from the roof and wreaths lined the pillars, each adorned with the earliest flowers of spring. Laughter and singing rang through the hall, as all joined in the merriment. Whole cooked pigs, bowls of baked vegetables, crispy bread loaves and more steamed on the tables alongside full glasses of wine and ale. But, for now, most seemed to be ignoring the feast, as knights and a clique of young nobles cheered and poured into a cleared area to circle hand-in-hand to a drummer's beat.
Sitting at the table on the raised dais Harry spied Robert enjoying himself with some wenches.
The sound of merriment became muted the further they climbed up, towards the top where the Maester's chamber, library and the rookery were located.
Once inside a dusty silence filled the space between shelves, each brimming with stacks of scroll tubes, slender volumes, and voluminous leather-bound books. If there was method in the mad jumble of knowledge, Harry didn't see it. A ladder leaned against the end of the nearest bookcase, its first three rungs snapped.
All three sat down at a small wooden table near a wall, both of the locals sitting opposite of Harry, who put the horn of plenty, wooden mug and apple onto the table. "So, the problem you have is a food shortage."
"Indeed." Cressen replied. "Under normal circumstances that wouldn't be such a huge a problem, but we're in a war right now."
"Something my brother seems intent to ignore, despite being the one that should know best!" Stannis brought out between gritted teeth. "Preparations for a possible siege, having enough to feed an army on the move. Then there is the fact that we just came out of a winter and therefore are already low on supplies!" he broke out in a bit of a rant. "Like this we won't last three moons in a siege." that was saying something, considering that only about a hundred men were needed to defend Storm's End properly.
Maester Cressen tried to console the young lord. "I'm sure your brother is not doing it out of malicious intent."
Stannis shrugged dismissively. "His intent doesn't matter, his actions do." he insisted before his blue eyes fell on Harry, his arms crossed in front of him. "So, Sorcerer, what can you do to solve that? Keep in mind that I'll have you flogged should you have lied to me."
The wizard couldn't help but be amused at that, reminded of Filch and the simpler times at Hogwarts. "I find it funny that you're sceptical of magic despite living in a magical castle." he chuckled, one hand touching the wall behind them and channelling some magic into the ancient wards, causing them to briefly become visible. As a result streaks of colourful light flashed across the wall, hugging its form and outlining everything across it in a prismatic wave. It ended with the light dispersing into colourful glitter that faded while falling down onto them. "See?"
Both muggles could only stare in astonishment at the glittering display of magic before them. "Not to mention you also possess magic, to an extent." Harry revealed, motioning at Stannis, shocking the young man even more.
"What?" came the flat reply mixed with a little bit of shock. His eyes having widened a little bit before returning to normal. "I think I'd know if I were magically gifted." he finally scoffed, scowling at Harry like he had thrown an accusation in his face.
Harry shrugged in reply. "It's not much, more like an ember than the raging fires I'm used to, but it exists regardless." he eyed the nobleman. "Did you have any incidents happen around you that had no rational explanation? Maybe some recurring dreams?" he was asking out of curiosity, anything that might tell him there were others like him here. Though, if there hadn't been any accidental magic by now then he most likely was the equivalent of a squib.
Stannis' face scrunched up, either in distaste or thought, before reluctantly stating. "I do have a recurring dream." he admitted finally between much teeth grinding.
"You do?" came from the baffled Cressen, looking at Stannis with wide eyes. Already knowing what Stannis was going to say, Cressen appeased him. "I'm not calling you a liar, my Lord. It's just a surprise, is all." seeing the eruption averted, the Maester added musingly. "But when I think about it it's no real surprise, considering that you have more than a drop of Targaryen blood in you."
"Dragon dreams." Stannis muttered nearly incomprehensibly.
Harry inquired, "What is the dream about?" storing the comment about Targaryens and dragon dreams away for later.
"It's about flying." Stannis answered succinctly. Though, upon seeing Cressen's curious look he elaborated. "In it, I'm flying above the treetops. Sometimes hunting, other times cleaning my striped plumage."
"Proudwing." that one word slipped out of Cressen without his consent, carrying with it more weight than anything he had said up until now.
It caused Stannis' hands to clench into fists and his teeth to grind even more, if such was possible. "Enough!" he bit out with a grunt and a glare directed at both men before him. "You're here to provide me with a solution to our problem. Not to dig up old things long dead!"
"Of course." Harry nodded with a sigh, thinking Stannis just as prickly a Snape. Seemingly never forgetting a slight, real or imagined. The wizard then made to grab the two objects he brought with him, only to stop abruptly with a groan.
Harry lamented inside his mind. 'I have no wand or other focus! Good going, Potter! Once more charging in without thinking.' he could practically hear Snape's voice in his head. While Harry could use some wandless magic, it wasn't enough for the delicate work of enchanting. He needed a focus for that most definitely. It didn't take too long thinking about what he could do to solve this problem. 'The sword.' the wizard realized with a start, somehow convinced it would work like a wand.
With closed eyes he concentrated with all of his considerable willpower, recalling his most powerful happy memory in vivid detail. It took more than a minute to manage in his current condition. "Expecto Patronum!" he intoned clearly, his right hand drawing a circle of shimmering silver mist in the air. It slowly expanded, slowly growing in mass and forming his corporeal Patronus; a ghostly stag of glowing radiance. He took a deep breath as soon as it was finished, exchaustion nearly catching up with him again.
"Bellatrix, please come to the highest room in Storm's End and bring my sword." Harry gave the Patronus' it's orders and sent the ghostly being on its way. He could've summoned the sword, but it probably wasn't the prudent choice to do so with people wary of him. Better to avoid misunderstandings or make people jump to conclusions.
Stannis glared and glowered at him, springing up to stand in front of Cressen who was busy staring at the retreating Patronus. "Why would you need a sword?!" he demanded imperiously, towering over Harry.
Harry, knowing that nothing but actions would convince the young man, sighed. "It's not to kill you, in case you're wondering. I don't need a sword to do that." he assured them flippantly, leaning back against his seat and looking at them expectantly. "It is just that magic is easier to cast with a focus, which is a sword for me. Though, I didn't think it prudent to carry one to a feast."
With that he considered the matter closed, not in the mood to appease anybody right now. Thankfully, it didn't take long for Bellatrix to arrive, his sword at her hip and Delphini at her breast. His Patronus was at her side before dissolving into the fine silvery mist it was made out of. The few guards around her stared in baffled silence.
She closed the door quickly. As soon as her eyes beheld him a shy smile came to her. Upon motioning her over it turned into a radiant one immediately. "I brought what you wanted." she told him eagerly, laying the naked black blade into the wizard's waiting hand.
"Thank you." he told her out of reflex, sighing as she took his words for an invitation to sit far too close beside him. Once more wondering if she'd somehow redirected her manic devotion from Voldemort to himself.
"Why do you need it?" she inquired hesitantly, unsure how he'd perceive being questioned.
Harry looked at her then, pondering if he should tell her to simply leave. "I want to enchant these," the wizard pointed to the two objects. "so that they replenish water and food respectively."
"That's easy enough!" she said enthused. "I can help!" her purple eyes looking at him imploringly, the witch wanting to be of use.
"If you can inscribe runes." he told her. Runes being a subject he hadn't chosen himself, leaving him with lacking knowledge. It would've worked without them, but it hopefully increased his chances. It'd also serve as a test for her by the project's failure or success.
Bellatrix simply nodded with a adoring smile directed at him. "Sure!"
With that they went to work amidst the stares of the two muggles. The witch began by using the Flagrate spell, drawing flaming runes into the air with her right index-finger. The simple spell was easy enough to use wandlessly. She then began directing them onto the horn of plenty and wooden mug. Then it was Harry's turn to enchant the objects properly. There was no incantation, nor much somatic components as he wove the simple enchantment over the two objects with the sword.
After about a minute it was finished, making the runes flare brightly for a brief moment as they burned themselves into the objects. Both now possessing a soft permanent glow. "There, that should do it." he said, grabbing the apple and putting it into the horn of plenty. Promptly, four identical apples fell out. While that happened, the last few droplets in the mug multiplied until it stopped shortly before overflowing.
Cressen stared at the magical display before him in awe. The frowning Baratheon took an apple and bit into it, causing juice to spill out, confirming that it was real and not some poor imitation of one. Stannis' eyes seemed to gleam, a grim and miniscule smile formed on his lips.
"Is it to your satisfaction?" Harry asked, storing sword again in its new sheath. "Though, a word of warning. The effect isn't unlimited and the duplicated food rots faster than normal, so storing it isn't advised."
Stannis confirmed it with a grunt. "It is and I'll keep that in mind." he looked at the magical pair and said. "Name your price, and if it is in my power to grant it is yours." the middle Baratheon expected the matter to be done with a little gold, a horse or even a knighthood.
It did not take too long to think of something he was interested in. "We'd welcome some coin and a map of Westeros." he began, eyeing the bookshelves before his gaze fell outside the window where he spotted the white tree. "I'm also interested in that white tree. A few leaves, a bit of sap and some bark would be appreciated."
"Done." Stannis confirmed. "Maester Cressen, please see to it that these objects are put where Robert doesn't find them." the young man knew what his brother would do, use them for feasting and other frivolities. "And get an appropriate amount of coin and the map prepared."
The old man nodded as he made to do as asked, picking the two artefacts up and shuffling away. "As you wish."
Shortly after Cressen returned with a rolled up map clutched in one of his wrinkled hands, and a bag of coins in the other. "Here, a map and fifty gold dragons for services rendered." he and Stannis watched as they accepted the gold without much fuss, both men having expected the price to go much higher. Not that they could've given more during wartime and the Stormlands were one of the poorer regions of Westeros as well. Still, Stannis considered this a good bargain in his favour.
Once business was concluded Harry's group filed out of the room with barely a farewell.
While walking down Harry glanced at Bellatrix, who softly cooed at a sleeping Delphini with a smile on her face. The picture of a loving mother that his eyes saw was incompatible with the one of a raving lunatic in his mind. 'I can't go on like this.' Harry admitted to himself, hoping she wasn't reading his mind. Not that he even knew Bellatrix to be capable of Legilimency.
In the last few days he hadn't gotten much sleep, always using the excuse of watching over Delphini to stay awake. Always worried about a dagger to be plunged in his back. It nearly drove him to Mad-eye levels of paranoia. 'Is that her intention, to drive me mad?' he shook his head to banish these thoughts. 'The multiplied apples weren't poisoned at least.'
The fact of the matter was that at the rate this was going he'd crack first, not Bellatrix. 'I need some reassurance, but how?'
It did not come to him as they exited the massive drum tower, feeling the strong breeze of Shipbreaker Bay greet them. However, an idea came to him as they gathered some leaves, sap, bark and branches from the Weirwood tree. Delphini slept on a blanket nearby as the crimson sap running down the bark gave him the epiphany.
'A blood pact!' the realisation struck him like a lightning-bolt. It wasn't as binding and severe as an Unbreakable Vow, which literally was unbreakable by any means. Not to mention you could only swear one such vow in your lifetime. While a blood pact simply prevented both parties from harming each other, and could be dissolved by both agreeing to the annulment. It would also force her hand, should she have been dishonest about her stated intentions. After all, a blood purist of her calibre as he remembered her would sooner kill herself than be bound to a known Half-blood and blood traitor like himself, in such a manner no less. In the event of her telling the truth it'd be insurance, should her memories return.
As they stored their new haul into the trunk Harry addressed the issue head on. "Bella, I have a question." he began, causing the woman to perk up with her typical adoring look directed at him. "What do you think of making a blood pact with me?" Blueberry eyes widened as they met mismatched emerald and ruby. With baited breath Harry waited for her answer, expecting the woman to go completely mad and attack him.
Instead she practically squealed like a schoolgirl and flung herself into his arms, hugging him close and causing him to tense up briefly. "I'd love to!" she blubbered in obvious happiness, with tears in her eyes. The witch saw it as a renewal of their marriage vows by using an ancient practice, combining their bloodlines symbolically. Even if they already did that with Delphini to a higher degree. Still, it really was considerate of him to do such a thing for her, showing her how much he cared.
Without further preamble Harry separated from her with some difficulty, tying to get it over and done with. Using a knife made for cutting ingredients Harry caused an incision on his palm, followed by Bellatrix doing the same. Clasping each other's bloody hand so the wounds overlapped, both channelled magic into it, completing the ritual with their intent.
Once their hands opened they revealed multiple drops of crimson liquid rotating in the air as they floated upwards. Above them, levitating in the air, a perfectly spherical pearl took shape, too flawless to be anything but a feat of magic. An incandescent sheen seemed to travel across the surface like paint in water, the muted pinks, creams and violets mesmerizing in their motion. The pearl somehow felt both substantial and hollow, as though sombrely waiting to be occupied. A moment later the drops of blood joined as one and were absorbed into the pearl. Promptly two iron serpents intertwined, forming a ring, their heads meeting and hugging the shimmering globe holding their sanguine promise.
The raven-haired wizard took the floating ring and put it on the ring finger of her trembling right hand. With no warning and incredible speed Bellatrix gripped the back of his head tightly and kissed him. All bumping foreheads and knocking teeth before she contained herself, but still poured her whole being into that kiss.
"I love you!" she stated as if nothing else could be more true. Like it was a truth of the world similar to the sky is blue and fire burns.
Completely dazed, for multiple reasons, Harry could only nod mutely, his mismatched eyes wide in disbelief. 'OK, either she went completely mad, or the memory loss theory has some merit.' he thought distractedly as Bella took his arm to rest between her bosom, snuggling close.
Either way he couldn't wait to get away and gather his wits, lest he do something foolish.
The next day, as most occupants still nursed their hangovers, Harry and Bellatrix woke up early together with Meribald. The septon still refused to leave, seeing it as his duty to accompany them. The group gathered their things, disassembled the tent and made to leave Storm's End to begin their journey.
Meribald was on his donkey, its saddlebags full of fresh provisions. While Bellatrix rode a palfrey from the stables of Storm's End, gifted to them by Stannis. Apparently a palfrey was suitable for long riding journeys due to its ambling capability, and nearly as expensive as destriers. Not that these terms meant much to Harry, who sat behind Bellatrix due to his inexperience with riding anything but brooms.
'Whelp, off to find Lyanna Stark, or whatever her name was.' the wizard thought as Storm's End disappeared behind them, holding the small bundle containing Delphini close to his chest.
They didn't have anything better to do anyway.
It always bothered me that Storm's End, the biggest castle of the Stormlands, wasn't better provisioned during the rebellion. A castle like that should easily hold out longer than a year. Though, then I remembered that winter had just ended, with the False Spring being just that, meaning that they must've been low on supplies already. As well as the mention that Robert took the defeated Stormlanders there after the Battles of Summerhall to make friends of foes. How does he do that usually? By feasting and drinking, of course. That leaves the fact that Robert also needed a supply train to wage war. Which is evidently why Storm's End was so weakly provisioned. It's only saving grace was that the castle doesn't need many men to defend against a siege. Not that they expected anyone to actually lay siege to begin with.
Proudwing is a goshawk Stannis' nursed back to health in his youth, though she wouldn't fly higher than the treetops thereafter. Something that caused the usual mockery from Robert, whose bird Thunderclap never missed a strike when hawking. Stannis relented to the pressure of others and his family, telling him he was making a fool of himself, and then abandoned the bird. Here it's potentially coming back as his Warg companion as magic slowly returns.
Fifty gold dragons for enchanted objects seems like a pittance, though neither Harry or Bellatrix know the value of the new currency and have only their own to compare it to.