They had stayed at Casterly Rock for Joffrey's eighth name day in the second moon of the year, but shortly afterwards all but Harry had gone back to the capital. Harry had stayed for longer, taking intense lessons with Tywin, Tyrion, Kevan, and even Genna, who was staying at Casterly Rock to help look after Tyrek while Darlessa grieved her lost husband.
Before Harry had left the Rock after a six month stay, the little apple tree had been sprouting, which had made Tyrek smile. His young cousin now spent a lot of time tending to the little sapling, and talking to it and Genna had praised Harry on his quick thinking to help Tyrek feel better with something so simple.
Harry, Balon, and his Kingsguard shadow, Ser Boros, had been back in King's Landing just before Tommen's third name day in the sixth moon of the year, as Harry had wanted to celebrate with his baby brother, but it was his own name day that was the highly anticipated event in King's Landing just a few weeks after Tommen's.
Harry had just barely turned twelve when his father announced that it was time for him to go on his first hunt. So they were all dressed in hunting greens, Harry's were brand new, and a gift from his father for his name day, which had sort of clued him into what his father had planned so he'd had some time to mentally prepare for the coming hunt. He had also been given his own official seal ring, two crowned, prancing stags side by side. The official Baratheon 'heir's' ring, which would usually name him as the next lord after his father, but in this case named him as the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms. He wasn't supposed to receive it until he was a man grown, and engaging in 'official' business for his father, but, as Robert explained to him when Harry had questioned receiving it at just twelve, Harry was now sitting the small council, and thus was engaging in official business in the name of his father. Harry liked the sigil ring, which sat tight and snug about his finger as it had been made just for him, because of the look on Cersei's face when Robert had presented it to him. Harry could now use the ring to 'sign' official documents, and letters, and his demands had to be followed when he did, as the ring gave him the same authority as his father, which was a lot of responsibility while he was so young, but thankfully he was truly forty-eight.
Harry had been unable to bring Gryffindor on the hunting trip, because being a bright shade of chestnut red, he would have been glaring in the dark woods. Harry had instead brought the five year old Ravenclaw for her first outing and having had a hand in her training, he wanted to see how well she could do.
She was calmer than Gryffindor, less likely to toss her head and scare away any prey, but Gryffindor's feistiness was always blamed on him being an intact stallion and not a gelding. The royal grooms still maintained that Harry had made a mistake in not having the destrier gelded, but Harry wouldn't hear of it.
Fluffy, his hunting dog, was also along for the hunt, and he was very eager to chase something down, as he was all but dragging the squire who was holding onto the leashes of the hunting pack.
"How are you?"
Harry grinned at his father. "Excited." He answered, though truthfully he didn't relish the idea of hunting and killing an animal. At least it wasn't purely for sport, as they would be eating whatever they had hunted, but it still caused Harry some internal distress, which he took great care to hide.
"Remember to stay silent and keep your horse steady."
Harry nodded. "I remember."
They sat their horses, walking through the woods away from the pathway, slipping between trees to reach the king's hunting grounds. They had already been here for three days, but they were great memories for Harry, sitting beside his father, sharing in a skin of wine around a fire while they ate.
His father didn't bring any sort of tent with him, and instead insisted on sleeping out under the stars. The Kingsguard likely hated this, as it was harder for them to protect a king out in the open, and they had more than likely argued this point with his father, who hadn't listened. So Harry spent the nights out in the wilderness sleeping right beside his father, staring up at the stars through the canopy of the trees, listening to stories, and then to nature. It was rather peaceful and relaxing.
This was their third day of hunting, having been unsuccessful on their first two days, and the two nights were spent drinking and singing and laughing, though Harry was absolutely sure to take it easy with the wine, he knew how dangerous it was to minors, and adults too if they drank too much, from his previous life.
"I've been waiting for this moment for years now, bringing you on your first hunt." His father told him. "I've been waiting for so long that I can't believe that the day has finally come."
"I am twelve now, Father." Harry said, with a smile.
"You are growing strong and well. You're almost a man grown."
"Four more name days." Harry grinned.
"I can't wait to see the man you'll be on your sixteenth name day." His father told him with relish. "Gods, you make me proud."
"I'm glad that I do." Harry insisted, ducking under a branch as Ravenclaw plodded on.
"You do. Every time I see you you're always better than when I had last seen you in some way. I have people coming up to me and saying how wonderful you are, how intelligent, people I didn't even know you knew. A singer came to court and he was actually telling me how wonderful you were as if you weren't my own son."
"Oh, was it Simon Sevenstrings?" Harry asked.
"So you do know him?" Robert asked him.
Harry nodded. "Yes. He's that singer I was telling you about, the one who taught me to play the fiddle at Casterly Rock."
"By all the gods, do you know everyone?" His father laughed.
Harry chuckled himself. "Only those who praise me." He teased.
Fluffy started growling low in his throat, and everyone on the hunt hushed, going silent. The squire was almost pulled off his feet when Fluffy started tugging and straining forwards.
Harry slipped his bow from his back and nocked an arrow, just holding it for now, as he waited. He squeezed Ravenclaw tight with his thighs as he was no longer holding her with his hands.
The horses all inched forward carefully, one hoof at a time. Every snap of twig and rustle of leaf sounded like a gunshot in the now silent wood, and Harry could feel his heart in his throat, hammering away as adrenaline poured into his system.
He'd once earned his father's pride and respect by killing three men on Pyke during the Greyjoy rebellion, as a mere boy of six, an event that his father still told others about to this day, very loudly. Now twice that age it was time to earn that pride and respect all over again, by showing the same hunting prowess that his father had, and also expected of his sons. Harry would not disappoint him, even if he found the killing of an animal unpalatable.
Harry didn't know that his father had ordered everyone to allow Harry to kill whatever they came across, he didn't realise that this was some sort of initiation that his father had planned and set up for him, and the others hunting with them were to only step in if he was in danger, especially if they encountered a boar which could gore him.
It was a deer, however, that they came across, and the dogs ran free after it, having been trained to chase and corner the animals so that the riders could hunt it. Harry urged Ravenclaw on, squeezing tight with his thighs to keep his seat, even as he kept the bow up, ready to fire at a moment's notice. When he got the perfect shot he'd been waiting for, he ignored all the noise, the flash of spear tips that were jabbing at the deer, the dogs baring their teeth and snapping at the heels of the poor animal, and instead he drew back the bow and released his arrow, taking the deer straight in the head.
It collapsed down immediately, and Fluffy claimed a leg as his own, ripping it and gnawing on it, and then growling if anyone came near his prize.
"Well done!" His father bellowed, riding up next to him and slapping Harry on the back, squeezing his shoulder and then shaking him. "Your first hunt, a complete success. We'll eat well tonight."
Harry smiled away the guilt he felt for slaughtering a terrified, cornered animal and took the praise aimed at him instead. This was a different world to the one he'd lived in previously. There was no such thing as vegetarianism, or even any animal protections. Animals had no rights, people had very few rights for that matter, and a man could beat his dog as easily as he could beat his wife or children and no one would care. That same man could sell his wife or children as easily as he could sell his dog.
The leg of the deer had to be cut off for Fluffy, as he refused to let go of it, before the deer was bundled up and hefted onto the back of a horse.
"Fluffy, come on." Harry encouraged, as they prepared to head back to their camp. "You can keep your leg, but you need to follow." He instructed.
Fluffy seemed to consider this offer, before he got to his feet and carried the leg like it was a stick, clamped tightly between his powerful jaws. Harry chuckled at him and rocked in the saddle to get Ravenclaw moving again. He had trained her himself, so she was more in tune to his wishes and as they made for their camp, she was steady and trusting of him.
He looked back every now and then, just to be sure that Fluffy was following still, and hadn't stopped to gnaw on the leg some more, but a lot of the ride back was spent listening to his father shouting his pride and praise to the heavens.
"I didn't kill on a hunt until I was four-and-ten!" He was telling everyone gathered around him. "My boy, my pride and joy, just downed a deer by himself, at just two-and-ten!"
Balon brought his horse up beside him, and gave him a soft smile. Harry could almost feel himself blushing. Gods, when had he gotten to be such a flustered idiot around Balon? It didn't bode well for Harry, not if he was crushing on his twenty year old sworn shield.
Damn, but Balon had grown into a handsome man. At least to Harry. He wasn't the first man that girls swooned over, but he still got his fair share of attention. He wasn't classically beautiful, or the most handsome, but he was still appealing. He was tall, broad, strong, and Harry was crushing so hard it was embarrassing.
"How are you feeling?" Balon asked him quietly. "I know you love animals, it couldn't have been easy to kill that doe."
Harry wanted to swoon himself at that. Balon knew him better than perhaps anyone, and his concern made Harry feel all gooey inside.
"Her life will continue our own." He said softly. "We will eat her, and give thanks that she died so that we can eat tonight. If it had been a killing out of hand, and we weren't planning to eat what we'd killed, then I'd have had much more of a problem with it."
Balon reached out and touched him. "You're so very compassionate, Harian. You make me want to be better, just from being beside you."
Harry gave Balon a smile and tried to brush off the compliment so that he wouldn't blush any redder than he already was. Fucking hell he'd forgotten how awkward first crushes were.
"I have always been strange." He tried to play off, willing his embarrassment away.
"Do not say such things. You're not that strange, and it is a good thing. Not many men are kind these days. More men should be like you."
Harry gave Balon a smile and tried to will away his own hormones that had seemingly popped up out of nowhere. Thankfully he didn't need to bumble his way through any more talks which made him feel like he was trying to ask Cho to the Yule Ball all over again, because they reached the camp soon after.
Harry slipped Ravenclaw's back and landed on his feet, before he hurried to Fluffy and started playing tug-of-war with the leg.
"That dog will attack you if you carry on, my Prince." Ser Meryn told him, an unnatural gleam in his eyes which told Harry that he'd very much like to see it happening. There was a reason Harry didn't like, nor trust, Ser Meryn.
"I trained him myself, Ser." Harry said stiffly. "Fluffy would never harm me."
"All boys say such things of their dogs…until they are missing a hand…or a face."
"You'll be missing your tongue if you carry on." Harry threatened angrily, even as he tugged the deer leg harder to challenge Fluffy.
The large, muscular dog shook his head back and forth and used his powerful body to start dragging the leg away. Harry let him have it, knowing that if he tugged too long then Fluffy would get over-excited and might well try to nip at him.
"Good boy, Fluffy." Harry praised. "Well done."
Fluffy stopped gnawing a moment to give Harry an affectionate lick to the cheek, recognising that he'd been praised, before he went back to his treat. Harry left him alone and went to see to Ravenclaw, scratching her rump with his nails until she turned to nuzzle him, chewing on his hair. He didn't mind so much, as he knew from the stable boys that she was merely trying to groom him back, as if he were another horse. He let her for a moment, before pushing at her neck and turning her head back, before he fetched her an apple and rewarded her for her good behaviour.
"You looked upset with Trant." Balon fretted, as Harry sat beside him around the newly fed fire.
"He was chastising me for teasing Fluffy. As if I didn't know my own dog." Harry scoffed. "I know exactly when to let go, before going too far, in a game with Fluffy."
"Do not let him bother you." Balon insisted, but he was sending a hard-eyed glare to Trant as well.
"He shut up after I told him he would be missing his tongue if he carried on."
Balon laughed. "You won't have to put up with him for much longer. We will stay the night now, as it is late, and head back to the city on the morrow."
"Good. I have enjoyed hunting, but I really need a bath. I can smell myself and I am only a boy!"
"I must smell disgusting to you then." Balon teased with a grin.
It was on the tip of his tongue to announce that Balon could never smell awful to him, before he swallowed his words quickly.
"You certainly need a good scrub." He teased instead.
Balon laughed loudly. "You're such a brat. Where is this decorum and discipline that your grandfather supposedly instilled in you?"
"Vanished, in light of him not being here." He said cheekily.
"Come, sit closer to the fire and warm yourself." Balon said fondly.
Harry enjoyed this part of hunting, as it was more like camping, as everyone settled around the fire and parts were carved from the deer and spitted on sticks to roast over the large fire.
His father came and sat behind him, sitting Harry between his legs, and Harry enjoyed listening to his praise, and to his stories of past hunts he'd gone on. They were the first to be served when the choice parts of the deer, which had been carved and roasted first, were done, and Harry tore into the meat happily, his belly grumbling after so long with just travelling food. Every time he ate salted beef he thought he would lose a tooth trying to tear a piece off.
His belly full, a skin of wine being passed to him so that he could drink and 'warm his blood', as he listened to stories of everyone around him. Everyone did have a hunting story to share as well, even Balon, who told them of the time he and his brother had been hunting with their father, Lord Gulian, and they had been set upon by a starved shadowcat. According to Balon his father still had the shadowskin pelt, which had been made into a cloak, as a prize.
As the sky went dark, and the night noises started, Harry was wrapped up in his father's arms, snuggling for warmth, and they drifted off to sleep. They would have an early start on the morrow, and as they were watched over by two members of the Kingsguard, who would stay awake to act as sentries, to keep their king, and their prince, safe, Harry settled his racing mind and allowed himself to sleep.
- X
They arrived back to the city easily enough, and Harry immediately took Balon to have a bath. Harry still insisted that Balon could bathe and sleep in his bed with him. He only relented if Balon was particularly forceful in his refusal, which was rare enough, otherwise he ignored everyone else's complaints or snide comments, and Balon did the same, telling others that he was a sworn shield, and he would shield Harry in whatever capacity needed, always.
The water was black by the time they left the warm water, and Harry was last out, as usual. He dried himself now that he was twelve, and he got straight into his sleeping tunic. He was too tired and sore after the hunting to do anything, or socialise with anyone, spending two weeks on a horse was not comfortable at all. He was going to his bedchamber, and he was going to stay there reading quietly if need be, perhaps he would sleep and catch up on everything he had missed while sleeping on a mere blanket on the floor now that he would have a feather mattress under him, but he was not going to leave his room unless he was dragged out. He swore it.
It took him two days to recover, to stop feeling so tired and lazy, but on the third morning he actually got dressed properly, and he felt that he had more energy. He started his usual routine by waking up before dawn, and starting his physical training. It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed the physical exercise, especially not when there were other things that he could be doing that were more interesting and fun, it was more that he knew exactly how important it was to keep his body fit and toned. Now that he had a nice, healthy body too, he was going to keep it that way and take advantage of it.
So he didn't really enjoy it, but he did it anyway, and he ran laps until he was breathless, then started tumbling like his uncle Gerion had taught him back at Casterly Rock. Wherever Gerion was now in the world, he hoped that he was safe and perfectly fine, but he was old enough to know that that probably wasn't the case, especially as they had received no word from him in all the years he'd been missing. Tywin had tracked Gerion to Volantis, where his measly crew had abandoned him, and Gerion had been forced to buy slaves to crew his ship for his journey to Valyria. No one knew if he'd reached it, or if the slaves had revolted and overtaken the ship, no one had seen Gerion, or his ship, the Laughing Lion, after that point. He couldn't be tracked and Harry felt the grief welling up inside him. He tried to control it, he was used to feeling grief, he had tasted it before, but this time it felt so overwhelming. He'd gone thirty years now without suffering a loss, without feeling any grief, and he'd slowly been getting over the deaths of his previous life. Then Gerion went missing, then Tygett had died of a pox, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt useless, helpless, and the grief threatened to swallow him over. He'd lost everyone in his previous life, and it felt like he was losing everyone in this life too. He knew that only Tygett and Gerion were dead, that two men in his rather large family dying was to be expected, and not a reason to despair, but he couldn't help it. It felt like he was slowly losing everyone all over again.
"Harian?!"
The shocked shout had him lifting his head, and then Balon was there, scooping him up from the ground and holding him tight and close.
"Harian, are you well? What happened? Have you been attacked? Injured?" Balon demanded, physically looking him over for injuries.
"I'm well." Harry said softly, rubbing his sleeve over his face to remove the tears he could feel there.
"You were on the floor, crying. That isn't like you, Harian. Not if you were truly well."
"I miss uncle Tygett." He cried. "I want uncle Gerion to come back well, but I know that he's likely dead too, and I miss them, Balon. I miss them both so much."
Balon expelled the air from his lungs and hugged Harry tighter to his chest.
"I'm so sorry, Harian. I cannot tell you false platitudes, you are correct, Gerion is most like to be dead, he hasn't been seen now for three years and we've had no word on him, or from him. Your grandfather has been trying to find him, if Gerion were alive, something would have been found by now."
Harry turned to sob into Balon's neck.
"Why now, Harry?" Balon asked him, once he'd regained some semblance of calm.
"It has been growing for a while, the grief, and the feeling of despair. It hit me when I awoke that I will never see them again. That I'll never be able to speak to them again, and I felt so sad that I needed to cry."
Balon gave his forehead a kiss, and Harry remembered his awkward crush and he felt his cheeks heating.
"You have had enough exercise for the day, you need to break your fast." Balon told him, setting him on his feet but keeping a friendly arm slung around his shoulders as he walked them to the royal solar.
There were two royal solars within the Red Keep, one in Maegor's Holdfast, which was just for the immediate royal family, and another, just off from the Great Hall, which was for all guests of the Red Keep to sit at. It was to the latter one they headed.
They were the first to arrive, and the servants rushed to serve them, as Balon took a napkin and dabbed at Harry's face, wiping away the remnants of his tears.
"I hate that I never really got to say goodbye to either of them." Harry admitted, as Balon sorted a plate out for him. "Tygett got sick and died so quickly, and Gerion left on his adventure without letting me come to see him off. Now they are both dead."
Balon brushed Harry's hair from his face and smiled kindly at him. "They knew how much they meant to you, and they knew how much you meant to them. They loved you, Harian. They loved you and they would hate that they had caused this sadness in you. Men die, it is a fact of life, we feel their loss, we grieve for them, but life carries on. I know that you know that. You knew that fact of life as a mere boy of three or four. Life and death doesn't change because of who has been taken, and you need to carry on your own life, as Tygett and Gerion would have wanted you to."
Harry swallowed and he nodded. "I will try. I know that life carries on, I just never got the chance to grieve for them properly. Gerion…we don't even have a body to inter into the crypt. It is hard to grieve for a man with no body, and no final resting place."
Balon stroked his back and brushed more hair from Harry's face. It was getting overly long again and Harry would have it cut back soon.
"Break your fast, my sweet Prince. This sadness will pass from you, and you will come to terms with it in time. Know that you still have family around you, and friends too, and though you may have lost Tygett and Gerion, and they can never be replaced for you, they are always watching over you fondly."
Harry smiled at that, and reached out to hug Balon in gratitude. "Thank you, Balon."
"Think nothing of it, my Prince."
The two of them started breaking their fast, eating boiled eggs, bread and honey, and Harry also made sure to eat some fruit, biting chunks from an apple.
"What are you planning to do this morn, Harry?" Balon asked him.
"I think I want to spend some time with Tommen and Myrcella. Their young innocence might help me shift the feeling of lingering grief." He said softly.
"They are likely breaking their fast in your mother's private solar."
Harry nodded his agreement. "They cannot stay in there all day." He insisted. "I will wait until a decent hour, when they have finished breaking their fast, and then I will see if they would like to play with me, whether they have left the solar or not."
Harry went for a bath in this time, cleaning himself of the sweat from his exercises and then dressing in a more 'princely' way in a doublet and breeches, instead of his old training clothing of a tunic, leggings, and a jerkin.
"I wonder if Tommen would like my old blocks. I'm sure they're in a storage cupboard somewhere." Harry mused. "I had a lot of fun with them when I was about his age."
"I'll go and find where they have been left." Balon told him, leaving Harry alone, but he was in Maegor's Holdfast, the Kingsguard were on duty, he was safe and protected still.
Harry made his way to the 'women's quarters' in the holdfast, heading to his mother's private solar, which was being guarded by Ser Boros. Harry sighed, of course his mother's creature would be guarding her door.
"Good morrow, Ser." Harry said pleasantly. "Are my brother and sister inside?" He asked.
"They are, my Prince, but Her Grace, the Queen, doesn't wish to be disturbed."
Harry cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Are you going to stop me, Ser?" He challenged.
Boros swallowed, attempting to weigh up his options.
"I…Her Grace doesn't wish to be disturbed, my Prince." He tried again, as if it would make a difference.
"Need I remind you that I am the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms? That I will one day be your king and have command of you. Are you going to stop me from entering?"
Boros swallowed again, harder than before, as he realised that he had no choice but to ignore the queen's orders and let Harry pass. It was very amusing to watch the strain on the fat man's face.
Harry reached for the door and opened it, without even knocking. Both Tommen and Myrcella were in the solar, as was Joffrey and their mother.
"Good morrow, little lions." He called out cheerily.
"Harian!"
Both Tommen and Myrcella came running to him, hugging him tight as he wrapped both arms around them.
"Come, I wish to play some games with you both, I missed you while I was away hunting."
"They are breaking their fast." Their mother spoke up, glaring holes into him.
"It seems that they have both finished." He said, looking at the two empty plates.
"I finished eating, Mother." Tommen told her.
"As have I." Myrcella piped up.
"Wonderful, come along." He said, taking their hands and heading back to the door.
"I haven't given my permission!" Their mother snapped.
Harry just gave her a look over his shoulder. "I don't need your permission for anything." He said simply. "I'm taking them and there is nothing you can do about it."
"Ser Boros!"
Harry arched his eyebrow back at the Kingsguard knight who was suddenly blocking the door.
"Have you forgotten our talk already, Ser? Do you really want to make an enemy of me when I will one day command you? You are already the weak link of the Kingsguard, do not give me an excuse to dispose of you."
Harry saw the flash in those eyes, the anger at the threat, at the humiliation of being named the weak link of the Kingsguard, but Ser Boros was not a complete imbecile, and he knew that there was nothing that he could do. King Robert would have his head if he dared lay a hand on the prince, perhaps even if he just merely stopped him from doing as he wanted. Harry was untouchable and everyone knew it, so Boros did the only thing that he could do, and he stepped aside.
"A wise choice, Ser." Harry mocked, as he walked past with Tommen on one hand and Myrcella on the other.
"Will mother be angry with you?" Myrcella asked worriedly.
"She's always angry with me, little love. Do not let it bother you. Come and play with me instead."
"I like playing with you." Tommen said happily.
"How is that little fawn I gave you?" Harry asked, referring to the orphaned fawn that he had found, that Tommen had begged him for. Harry had given him a stern warning that a living animal deserved respect, love, and care, and Tommen had sworn, in all his three year old insistence, that he could and would look after it.
"I keep him in the garden." Tommen told him, excitedly. "I feed him, and play with him, and I love him. Thank you for gifting him to me, Harry."
Harry squeezed his plump hand gently, and smiled down at his brother. Tommen was only three, and Myrcella would be four in just a week. He refused to allow anything to upset them, so he took their mind from their mother and instead took them to the Great Hall, where Balon had found the crates of blocks and was stood waiting.
"Any trouble?" He asked, automatically scanning him for injuries.
"Nothing I couldn't handle." Harry insisted with a smile, trying not to blush at Balon's blatant concern for him. "Tommen, look here."
Harry took the three year old to the crates of blocks to show him.
"These were mine when I was your age." He said. "Father bought them for me at my very first tourney when I was four. I want to pass them onto you."
"Really?" Tommen asked excitedly, his hands hovering over the blocks, but not touching them.
"Of course, come on."
Harry tipped the crates of blocks out all over the floor. "Build something, Tommen. Anything you want."
Tommen nodded, but he was entranced with the blocks and Harry smiled happily. This had been a good idea, and it helped him to forget his grief. Tygett was dead and gone, and Gerion was likely dead too, but life went on. His life would go on. He still had family and friends around him, it was not like his previous life, where he had lost everyone and everything. This was not the same.
"Do you want to play blocks too, Myrcella?" He asked her.
She shook her head. "I want to know how to dance."
Harry hummed. "Well you should have been taught by now." He said, knowing that, though she was only three, almost four, that her dancing lessons would have started as soon as she could walk.
"I…I cannot make my feet do the steps properly." She admitted.
"Come here then." He said, holding out his hand and bowing to her.
She giggled and hurried to him, taking his hand. Harry led her through several steps, and he noticed that she kept putting her feet in the wrong positions.
"Hold on, Myrcella." He said, wrapping an arm around her back and lifting her. "Let us try this. Put your feet on mine."
Myrcella did as asked, and she stood on his doe-skinned boots in her dainty slippers. When Harry started dancing, with her on his feet, she started laughing, looking down to see their feet.
"This way you can learn the steps." He said, dancing them both around the Great Hall.
"It's more fun." She laughed as she watched Harry lead them around in a series of steps.
Harry went through several dances with Myrcella, before the dancing morphed into a game. Harry held his sister to his front, the both of them facing forward, and he walked her around the Great Hall on his feet, telling her that they would lose the game if she stepped on the floor.
He told Balon to watch over Tommen, who was entranced with his building structure, as he took Myrcella from one end of the Red Keep to the other. He started jumping to make it more difficult, spinning on his one heel to make them both lose balance, and Myrcella screeched and screamed. Harry bunny hopped over the serpentine steps and she laughed uproariously. They made it to the courtyard to Maegor's Holdfast and he spun on his one foot, making his sister scream again.
This had the unfortunate effect of drawing two members of the Kingsguard from White Sword Tower to see what was happening.
"Apologies, Sers." Harry said, grinning at Ser Barristan and Ser Mandon. "My sister and I are playing a game."
Harry walked them forward several paces and Myrcella giggled, unable to take the smile from her face.
"As long as all is well, my Prince." Ser Barristan said.
"We are perfectly fine, we did not mean to wake you."
"You didn't. We were awake and getting ready for a shift change." Ser Mandon told him, his pale eyes staring at them.
"Ah, good. Hopefully Ser Boros can get out of my way and go to sleep for a few hours." He groused.
"Has Ser Boros done something wrong, my Prince?" Barristan asked.
"He tried to prevent me from seeing my own brother and sister. My father gave no such orders to keep me away from them, thus I should not have been stopped. I don't appreciate being told I cannot see my own brother and sister by a member under your command, Ser, when the king has not ordered as such. Please see it does not happen again, and perhaps remind Ser Boros that he is to follow the king's orders, no one else's."
"I will see it done, my Prince." Barristan told him seriously.
Harry nodded his appreciation and he started walking Myrcella back the other way, over the serpentine steps to the Great Hall. Ser Mandon and Ser Barristan followed silently, watching them as Harry leapt the last several steps to the floor, Myrcella screaming, then laughing as they landed safely. Still her feet did not touch the ground.
He walked her across the outer yard, spun on his heel, which made her shriek, before they finally made it back to the Great Hall, losing their Kingsguard shadows, who were going to find their king and other sworn brothers. Inside the Hall Balon was playing with Tommen, lifting the three year old so that he could reach his massive tower.
"Tommen, that is wonderful." Harry insisted, even as he kissed Myrcella's head and set her back on the ground for the first time in the last hour.
"Do you like it?" Tommen asked excitedly, looking to him with big, green eyes.
"I do. I like it very much!" He said proudly, and Tommen swelled up as he heard the pride in Harry's voice, aimed at something he had done.
Myrcella started practicing her dancing on her own, while Harry played with Tommen for a while, helping him to build more, offering him ideas, and making another tower.
A red cloak came into the Hall, and seemed to be relieved to see them.
"My Prince, Her Grace, the Queen, has asked that Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen go to her solar for the noon day meal." He told Harry.
Harry looked at his siblings. "Are you both hungry?" He asked.
They both nodded. He nodded too. "Okay, go with Tregar, both of you. Make sure that you eat your food so that you grow healthy."
"You…you know my name?" Tregar asked in shock.
"Of course I do. I know the names of everyone in King's Landing." He said, though that was a bit of an exaggeration, but he did make it a point to know all of the red and gold cloaks by sight and by name, in case he ever had need of them. Or he needed to recognise them for their shady dealings, but he certainly didn't know everyone in the Red Keep, let alone the entire city, but sometimes little lies helped to keep him safer.
Harry stretched and looked to Balon when Tregar left with Tommen and Myrcella.
"Do you want to have your own meal?" Balon asked him.
Harry nodded. "I am hungry, and afterwards I need to do my sword training with you and a member of the Kingsguard, so I had best eat, and eat well, if I want enough energy to get through that."
Harry and Balon went back to the royal solar, and joined Renly, who was newly knighted at seventeen, and his brand new squire, the twelve year old Loras Tyrell, for the midday meal.
Harry thought it rather odd that the Tyrells had placed Loras with Renly to squire. They were certainly trying to manoeuvre themselves at court, and Harry knew they were trying to match him to Margaery so that she could be queen, and her son the king after him, but he couldn't work out why sending Loras to squire for Renly would play into those plans. It was a puzzle to him, and he loved a good puzzle.
"What are you doing after you've eaten?" Renly asked him.
"I have to train with the Kingsguard for a few hours. Would you care to join me?"
Renly actually laughed. "No."
Harry snorted. "Uncle, you would do best by starting your martial training. Looking good in your armour counts for naught when you are killed in it."
Renly gave him a roguish smile. "I'll be just fine, Harian. Stop your fretting. I am an anointed knight after all."
Harry nodded, but he sighed. Renly didn't take much of anything seriously, so he wasn't surprised to hear that Renly didn't take training, or the potential threat of a battle, seriously. Harry truly had grown up to see his uncle as more of a maiden to be protected, and if Renly couldn't fight adequately, then he would forever need to be protected too.
With that in mind Harry threw himself into his training that afternoon. He'd snagged Ser Preston Greenfield as a tutor, along with Balon and Ser Aron Santager, the master-at-arms inside the Red Keep.
He had always excelled in listening and repeating instructions, and at taking the initiative and doing things his own way. He was formidable, but he was still only twelve, so he was unsurprised that all three men were able to best him over and over, but that he showed improvement and skill helped him to get over the taste of disappointment. He shouldn't be able to best these men yet, and his rational, forty-eight year old mind was tempered from his disappointment and frustration. He was able to calm himself, and instead of throwing a temper tantrum, he was instead able to learn and move on, still losing, but getting stronger and better each time regardless. One day soon he would surprise his instructors by besting them, he was just upset and disappointed that Tygett would never see him become better than his instructors, that he'd never get to see him become a formidable man in his own right.
- X
Harry had been reading in his room when he heard the terrible wails and screams, and recognising Tommen's voice, he had all but thrown the book away from himself as he lurched to his feet to go and find his little brother.
His feet pounded against the stone corridor that his bedchamber resided in, to the adjacent corridor where Tommen had his room.
Joffrey was there, holding Tommen's tunic tightly in one fist while the other was forcing a blooded animal skin over Tommen's head, and through it all, Tommen was screaming, keening in distress.
"What are you doing?!" Harry demanded furiously, stepping forward to shove Joffrey away from Tommen.
"Harry!" Tommen wailed, sobbing his heart out, reaching for him blindly.
Harry found the ragged ends of the animal skin and lifted it from Tommen's pale, distraught face.
"What happened?" He demanded, as Tommen latched onto him, burying his face into Harry's doublet.
His brother didn't say anything, so Harry cut a glare to Joffrey.
"I won't ask again." He directed at his brother.
"It's not my fault he's a sniffling babe." Joffrey scoffed.
"He's three, Joffrey!" Harry snapped. "He is still a babe!"
Harry clutched Tommen close, before reaching down and tipping that little face up to look at him.
"Tommen, what did he do?"
"My fawn!" Tommen wailed. "The one that you gave me."
Harry was confused for all of a minute, before he snapped his head to look at the blooded animal skin…the skin of a fawn. Joffrey had once again killed an animal, a pet of one of his brothers, and Harry was furious.
Joffrey, with whatever sense of preservation that he had, tried to run, but Harry was older, bigger, and faster, and he gave chase. He easily caught his brother by the collar, and yanked him back, before slamming him into the wall.
"How fucking dare you!" Harry roared at him. "It wasn't enough that you killed my cat Hermione, you had to kill Tommen's fawn too?"
"It was prey. I hunted it." Joffrey spat.
"It lived in a garden in the keep, not in a forest. You didn't hunt it, you cornered it and killed it because you're a coward!" Harry roared into the eight year old's face. "You're prey to me, you had better hope I never get it into my head to hunt you, Joffrey." Harry told him, yanking Joffrey forward before slamming him back into the wall, knocking the breath from him.
"I don't know what I did wrong."
Harry could well understand that Joff didn't know what he'd done wrong. He was a complete sociopath, to be able to take innocent animals, pets, and kill them in such barbaric ways. He'd pinned down and taken a dagger to a pregnant Hermione, so that he could take out her unborn kittens to proudly show their father when he was only six…he had skinned Tommen's fawn, and Harry would put money on him doing that while the poor animal was still alive too.
"You're a monster, Joffrey. A disgusting, heartless monster." Harry told him, shoving his brother back and letting go of him. "If you ever do anything like this again I'm going to kill you in the same manner."
He went back to Tommen, who was still white faced and sobbing. Harry picked him up and cuddled him.
"I'm so sorry, little lion." Harry said softly, stroking his back.
"I loved him!" Tomen declared and Harry wondered if, like himself, Tommen was now so hateful towards their brother that familial ties meant nothing. "He used to eat from my hand!"
Harry blinked, and then realised that Tommen was talking about the fawn, and he sighed.
"It'll be okay, Tommen." Harry said soothingly, stroking his back. "He won't do it again, and your little fawn can't be hurt anymore."
Tommen cried harder, and Harry carried him out of the holdfast, ignoring Ser Meryn on the drawbridge.
"My Prince, what has happened?" The Kingsguard knight asked him regardless.
Harry just shook his head, and carried on walking, knowing full well that Ser Meryn couldn't leave his post. That would just about kill him too, as he didn't know what had happened, only that Harry had exited the holdfast, carrying his crying brother. He would be desperate to go and report to their mother, but his duties meant that he couldn't until someone relieved him of his post. Harry wondered how long it would take Ser Meryn to summon a servant to go and inform their mother.
He carried Tommen over the serpentine steps and to the outer yard, where he knew that he'd find Balon, who was practicing his swordsmanship with Ser Mandon, Ser Arys, and Ser Barristan.
"Harian, what happened?" Balon demanded, running right over the moment he saw them.
"Joffrey is an absolute monster who needs to be put down." Harry said savagely. "He's skinned Tommen's pet fawn."
Tommen wailed and curled up tighter in Harry's arms, and Harry shushed him and stroked his back.
"He was actually taunting Tommen with the skin when I heard them and went to see what had happened."
"What have you done with Prince Joffrey?" Ser Barristan asked him warily.
"Less than what he deserved." Harry answered tightly.
"What do you need us to do, my Prince?" Ser Arys asked him.
Harry sighed. "Please could you go and deal with the mess that Joffrey has left Tommen's garden in, Ser. I'm sure that he did this while the fawn was still alive, and he isn't skilled in the art of skinning an animal either, so I imagine there's quite a bit of mess."
Tommen sobbed harder and Harry gave him a small squeeze.
"Where is my mother?" He asked.
"She went to oversee Princess Myrcella's lesson, my Prince."
Harry sighed and nodded, he gave Balon a look, and his sworn shield needed only that to know to follow him. Harry went to the Great Hall, the throne room of the Red Keep, as he knew his mother liked to sit below it, likely so that she could look up at it and imagine herself seated on it, and Myrcella had told him that all of her lessons were inside the Great Hall, unless it was a lesson in piety, where she was to have her lesson in the small Sept of the Red Keep.
Harry smiled as he saw Myrcella doing her needlework under the gazes of their mother and her personal Septa, Eglantine.
It was Tommen's cries that alerted the three to his presence and in the vaulted room those cries echoed distressingly.
"What have you done?" Cersei demanded of him, standing and rushing forward to snatch Tommen from him.
"Not me." Harry said darkly. "Joffrey. Truly, Mother, if there was any child of yours you should have smothered in his cradle, it was him."
"He killed my fawn!" Tommen whined, interrupting whatever retort their mother was going to say…probably along the lines of the only child she wished she had smothered had been him. "He killed my fawn and tried…tried to make me wear the skin!"
"Don't fret about it, Tommen." Harry said soothingly, though his eyes were glaring into their mirror image. The emerald eyes of the Lannisters that he shared with his mother. "I've sorted Joffrey out and he won't do anything of the like again."
"What did you do to him?" Cersei demanded of him.
"That is none of your concern." He told her, almost mocking her, and she knew it too as he watched her gaze harden.
"If you've hurt him…"
"Of course I have." Harry said easily. "He skinned Tommen's pet and then taunted him with the skin."
"Joffrey's horrible!" Myrcella said from the table, her needlework still between her hands, but she wasn't focused on it anymore. "I wish he wasn't my brother."
"Me too!" Tommen insisted.
"I'm sure we all wish that he hadn't been born." Harry said soothingly. "Regretfully, he was, but if he hurts either of you, then you can come to me. He has always been afraid of me. I will protect you, my little lion pride."
His two younger siblings looked much happier and Harry gave his mother a last sneer, and he turned his back on her and left the hall with Balon.
"Harian, are you okay?" Balon asked once they were outside.
"I'm angry, Balon." He said honestly. "After he'd killed Hermione, after what I did to him, I never once thought he would target another animal, but I was wrong. I don't like being wrong."
"He saw Tommen as an easy target, most like." Balon mused. "He wouldn't go after any of your pets, not after Hermione, but your brother's fawn…"
Harry sighed heavily and wondered why he had expected Joffrey to not go after the fawn. He had given him a very thorough beating, and he'd almost killed him, after he'd killed Hermione, and he'd expected that to be enough, but it hadn't been, and now as a result Tommen had been heartbroken, and likely traumatised too.
He would make more time for Tommen in the coming weeks, and check up on his mental health after the horror of having the bloodied skin of his pet draped around him. He really felt like he could kill Joffrey for this. Tommen was only three years old, a fucking baby, and Harry had ever been protective of him and Myrcella.
He would have to watch Joffrey more closely too. If he was such a monster as to kill animals, then it wasn't too much of a leap to think that he could kill people too. He was sure he had heard something in his previous life about children who started out killing animals grew up to be serial killers. If Joffrey was going to grow up into a serial killer, then Harry needed to take him out, and sooner rather than later.
- X
Myrcella's fourth name day had been full of singers and musicians. Harry had even played a few songs for her on his fiddle, and she'd declared that he was the best fiddler she'd ever heard, which had pissed off their mother to no end, but that only served to make Harry more amused.
Now into the tenth moon of the year, what was the equivalent of October in his previous life, Balon's twenty-first name day had gone just a few days before, on the second, and a tourney had been announced for the same month.
Robert Baratheon could not go longer than several turns without a tourney, and as no one else had announced any sort of tourney, he had.
It was to be held in King's Landing, and Harry was preparing to cheer Balon through the joust and the archery, of which he was dominating in recent years. He'd decided that he was as yet still too young to enter either competitions, and that he would be happier to just watch for now.
So when the first day dawned Harry was up and washed, dressed in his finest clothes, gifted to him the night before by his father, as had become customary for tourneys now. His doublet was beautiful yellow velvet, and on his breast was the prancing black stag, embroidered with real gold thread to form the crown in its antlers. His breeches were black leather, tight to his legs and form fitting, tucked into his doe-skinned boots that were dyed the same colour. Harry looked in the mirror and considered how grown up he looked. He was almost a man, and he was finally showing as such with his body. He was still several years from reaching his full potential, but looking at himself in the beaten silver surface of his mirror, he could see that he no longer looked so much like a child. He was in a state of being in between being a child and being an adult.
He smiled to himself and made sure that he was 'decorated' to his full potential. He had his leather purse tied to his belt, on the opposite side to the Valyrian dagger his father had gifted to him for his seventh name day that he still took everywhere with him. He had a few rings on his fingers, a rather pretty necklace made of emeralds that brought out his eyes, and the most recent coronet that his father had gifted to him only a few turns before. It was gold with more emeralds. He was definitely going for the gold, black and green theme, it looked very well paired with his colouring.
He went to get Balon first, who was also dressed in his finery, but in more movable clothing, as he was competing. They broke their fast and then Harry hurried Balon down to the bustling tourney grounds so that Balon could enter his name on the lists for archery and jousting and he could go and explore.
Harry always loved the markets and he walked through them happily, looking at everything, and buying bits and pieces that caught his attention. This also put him in good stead with the smallfolk, as he was putting coin in their pockets as he always paid more for something, and refused any change, regardless of how insistent a vendor was.
He noticed quite quickly after arriving in the markets that there was a group of several ragged children following after him, some of them barely wearing anything, most of them barefoot, and they all looked starved and sick. He realised immediately that they were a group of orphaned children from the city, likely looking for dropped scraps of food.
"Hello." He greeted softly, trying to make himself seem as unassuming as possible as all of the children flinched and looked around immediately for an escape route. "Are you hungry?" He asked gently, even knowing that the orphans of Flea Bottom would always be hungry.
None of them answered him, they looked petrified, frozen in place like rabbits, to have been addressed by him. Some of them flicked their gazes to the tall, imposing Balon, who was frowning at the orphans, as if daring them to approach the prince, as he hovered his hand over the pommel of his sword. Harry laid a hand over Balon's own and gave him a rather stern look.
"How about we get you all some food?" Harry offered, turning back to the orphans and smiling kindly. "Come along."
He walked to the nearest food stall and he ordered a trencher of stew for each child. It was little more than a hollowed out end of stale bread to act as a bowl, filled to the brim with meat, vegetables, and gravy, but it was piping hot, it was good food that wasn't rotten or stolen, but more importantly it would fill their aching bellies.
The children approached him tentatively, the youngest first, as they had presumably spent less time on the streets, and thus had more faith in adults than the cynical older children, who had come to learn that no one would help them, and those trying to lure them anywhere were not their friends, and were not to be trusted.
Harry handed the food over, and after seeing it happen the older children hurried over as well. Harry gave them all food, watching them eat ravenously, like wild animals, and he sent Balon to a stall not too far away to pick up apples and pears, which also went to the children.
Harry fussed over them like a mother, picking bits from their thin, dull hair, using his own handkerchief to wipe their noses and mouths. He took them around the market and bought them all new tunics and cloaks, so that they might at least be warm. Lastly he passed them all a silver stag, and he warned them to always look out for one another. He knew all too well about the predators that stalked the shadows, who would look for any excuse to murder or even rape a child, and the orphans were at even more of a risk of such treatment, because those who would prey on them believed that they would get away with it, as if they carried out the crimes then there would be no one to miss the victim. No one cared for orphans, after all.
The orphans hurried away and, his mood deflated a little, Harry went to his father's pavilion tent. Ser Arys and Ser Meryn were at the tent, proving that his father was already awake and in the tent, ready for the start of the tourney.
"Good morrow, Sers." He greeted, even as they let him pass easily enough. "Good luck in the joust."
"Harian, there you are!" His father cried out, throwing his arms open, as he looked over to see who was disturbing him only to find Harry.
Harry went for the cuddle, as if he were still a babe, but he didn't care. He still gave his father a kiss to the forehead, knowing as he did how much it pleased Robert to receive a physical affirmation that Harry loved him.
"Father, I am so excited." Harry declared.
"I was worried that you might miss the beginning."
"Never! I was up at dawn, I broke my fast and then I went and explored the markets with Balon."
"I should have known. Come here, let me look at you."
Harry was held between huge hands and his father looked him up and down, before smiling.
"I could almost mistake you for a man, look how much you have grown."
Harry smiled at the praise. He'd thought something very similar when he'd dressed that morning.
"I am getting bigger, and stronger." Harry agreed.
"Already twelve years old, with a successful hunt under your belt, and human kills too. You are doing better than I did at your age."
"I have been taught to be better than everyone. Grandfather wouldn't allow it if anyone was better than me at anything. So I have to be better, always, and I'm always learning and getting better. I'm willing to be taught, and learn, from anyone and everyone."
"No more talk of learning." Robert insisted. "Come and have some fun for once, we will watch the joust together."
Harry smiled. "As always."
Harry was sat up on the platform next to his father, everyone else sat below them, including Cersei, Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella.
This had been the same ever since Harry's very first tourney, when he had asked to be sat up with his father, and Robert had readily agreed. Cersei had tried to get Joffrey a seat up next to Robert as well, when he had gotten old enough to sit and watch a joust without crying through it, as Harry had come to learn, but Robert had refused and insisted that only the crown prince could sit beside him.
That was a lie, as the actual etiquette was that the king had to sit higher than everyone else, even his own family, including the crown prince, but this was his father's way of keeping Harry close, as his favoured son, and blocking Joffrey, whom he particularly disliked.
So even when Harry wasn't attending the same tourney as his father, as they were sometimes at other ends of the realm in those early years, Joffrey did not take Harry's seat up next to Robert Baratheon. Only Harry had ever had that honour, and only Harry would ever have that honour.
The Kingsguard were still on guard, of course, but when it came their time to joust they would switch in and out, so that they could attend the tourney, and still protect their king, and Harry too, of course.
With Balon competing, Harry had been assigned Ser Mandon as his sworn shield, if he decided to walk off that was, which he wouldn't. He enjoyed this bonding time with his father.
The first tilt of the day was a Frey against a hedge knight. He tried to show a bit of decorum and grace when the hedge knight knocked the Frey man flying with the first lance. It wouldn't do to laugh at such things, but truly a proper, landed knight of a noble family should have been able to best a mere hedge knight. It just went to prove that sometimes landed knights were not worth their renown, and sometimes hedge knights could be more skilful, and even more honourable.
Harry cheered for the Kingsguard, but none more loudly than he cheered for Balon, who was doing well as he unhorsed yet another Frey.
"Lord Walder should be told he can't have any more children. I can't keep up with who is who. They all look the same with their weasel faces!"
Robert Baratheon almost choked on his mouthful of wine and the laugh that was torn from him was a powerful roar of noise before he choked and spluttered, going red faced as he tried to clear his lungs of the wine he'd inhaled.
Harry laughed more at his father, even as the Kingsguard all looked to their king, seeing if he was well or needed any assistance.
"We should pass a law!" Robert insisted, grinning at him.
Harry laughed. "I can imagine how that would be taken. Henceforth Lord Walder shall not marry again, nor will he father anymore weasel children."
Robert laughed some more, the both of them ignoring the next tilt, which was a hedge knight against a Royce.
They missed the next three tilts laughing together, each making the wording of the 'proclamation' more and more humorous. It was the roar of the crowd when Jaime took the field that drew them back in to the jousting. He was facing Ser Lyle Crakehall, a rather formidable opponent. This was a tilt to watch.
"Is it too much to hope that Ser Lyle knocks him on his golden arse?" Harry whispered to his father, who boomed out yet another laugh.
"Crakehall is a big, strong man." Robert insisted. "He will not be easy to topple. You may yet get your wish."
It wasn't to be, after six lances, in which both men planted themselves like trees and it seemed like the winner would be decided on the king's vote, Jaime struck Lyle's breastplate and the man shifted just enough that he was unbalanced, just as his horse slipped on a wet patch of grass and went down, taking Ser Lyle with it.
The crowds screamed in pleasure, and Harry groaned in disappointment.
"I hear you." Robert said, exhaling forcibly himself. "That was a close matchup and the Kingslayer almost ended up in the mud."
No other tilts were quite so entertaining as that one, though Harry cheered loudly when Balon took the field again, to unhorse one of the remaining hedge knights with a single lance.
At noon they took a break to take a meal, Harry collected up his sworn shield and Ser Mandon, and then he rushed off to the markets instead. The smell of roasting meat and roasted onions, made Harry's belly clench, and he went to find someone who was cooking both. He ended up getting a whole roasted onion dripping with gravy and what tasted like lamb, seasoned perfectly, in a trencher with more gravy.
He'd noticed his appetite was growing fierce as he approached his teenaged years. Every morning when he woke up he felt like he was taller. He was in his prime growing stage, and he was growing tall and strong.
The best part of tourneys, in Harry's opinion, was exploring all of the stalls, looking at wares from all over Westeros and beyond. He was offered tastes of this and that, delicacies from all over the known world, and Harry made sure to try them all, tempering his initial reaction so as not to offend, and even buying some foods that he really liked. He was offered sips of wine, which he took excessive care to control, as he knew how dangerous alcohol was to minors. He was offered Tyroshi pear brandy, which was nice, but there was a Meereenese apricot wine that he really liked, so he bought himself a cask and a wineskin. The cask he sent back to the Red Keep, the wineskin he kept with him, offering some to Balon, who took a sip and promptly gagged.
"By the gods, Harian, how do you like that?" He demanded.
Harry laughed and offered Ser Mandon a taste. The knight grimaced only slightly.
"It is too sweet for my tastes, my Prince." He declared.
Harry was also offered a blackberry wine, which he liked also, buying a cask and sending it to the Red Keep and buying a skin to tie to his belt with the apricot wine.
He bought three skins of his father's favourite Arbor wine, which was a deep purple colour, that was much too strong for Harry to stomach. In his opinion it was too strong for anyone to stomach, and how it didn't erode the lining of the organs it passed through was anyone's guess.
It was as he ran to a stall selling toys, his mind cast to Myrcella and Tommen, when things went wrong. His two 'guardians' were following languorously, keeping him in their sights, but not running after him. Harry was scanning the table for a gift for his siblings, the market vendor talking nervously to him, when Harry felt a hand cup and squeeze his bum, large fingers slipping between his legs to stroke the front of him.
He stiffened immediately. He was frozen in place, even as the hand withdrew and no one was any the wiser. He turned and saw the man who had touched him meandering off, without a care in the world.
"Stop him!" Harry cried out, pointing at the man.
His word was acted upon instantaneously, if perhaps with a large dose of confusion. Ser Mandon ran to the man that Harry had pointed at and seized him by grabbing his arm and a fistful of hair, Balon ran straight to him and immediately scanned him for injuries.
"What is it? Are you harmed? Did he steal from you?"
Harry was breathing hard, his body trembling, he had never felt so…so disrespected in all his life, this one and his previous. He had been a slave in a cupboard to the Dursleys, smacked about, starved, and neglected, but he had never been molested before. Never. He was so angry and sickened that he couldn't speak for long minutes.
"Ser Mandon. Take him to the Red Keep. Put him in a black cell." He ordered, his voice strained and angry.
"What happened?" Balon asked, shooing off spectators and glaring at anyone who still lingered.
"He groped me as I was leaning over the table." Harry said, feeling almost panicked, unable to catch his breath.
Ser Mandon looked utterly disgusted and he took a mailed fist and punched the man he was holding in the side of the head, hard. Once knocked out, he called over a pair of gold cloaks who were policing the markets and ordered them to take the man to the black cells. Harry was immediately taken to his father, who was eating at the tables for the nobles, his remaining Kingsguard at his back.
Harry must have looked pale and shaken, his hands were still trembling. His father leapt to his feet and held Harry tightly, shielding him from the view of the other nobles.
"What happened? Are you well?" He demanded.
Harry just cuddled in close, trying to filter his own thoughts and feelings.
"The Others take you, someone answer me!"
"Prince Harian was molested by a commoner in the markets." Mandon informed the king quietly.
Robert Baratheon, for the first time in his life, seemed speechless. He mouthed silently for a moment, his face getting redder and redder as his rage grew.
"Where is he?" He demanded furiously.
"He was taken to the black cells, Your Grace." Balon answered this time.
"Harian." His father called out to him, placing his hands on his shoulders and bending to try and get eye contact. Harry wouldn't give it to him, still fuming at the indignity of his position. He couldn't believe that anyone had dared…he felt his magic throb inside of him, aching to lash out and destroy whoever had harmed him.
Harry was knocked from his thoughts by a wave of secondary emotions…emotions that weren't his own. He was startled to hear thoughts not his own and he realised that his anger had allowed him to hear projected thoughts.
He felt a murderous, black rage that wasn't his own, he felt amusement that certainly wasn't his own, and he heard thoughts about him 'deserving' some humbling.
It was uncontrolled, he couldn't pinpoint who was thinking what, but all the Occlumency practice was apparently paying off, and as uncontrolled as it seemed to be, he was improving and he'd had his first glimpse of other people's surface thoughts and emotions, even as uncontrollable as it was.
"Harian?!"
Harry blinked and looked up into his father's angry, concerned face. A large hand pushed him forward and they left the table. Harry walked on automatic. He was led to his father's gold silk pavilion tent.
"Harian, what happened?" He was asked, even as his father sat down and pulled Harry onto his lap, holding him almost crushingly tight.
Harry told them, his father and the Kingsguard, about buying gifts and finding a stall of toys, how he had wanted to buy something for Tommen and Myrcella. How he had bent over the table to see other toys at the back, and then feeling a hand touching him, squeezing him.
He tried to use this opportunity to read surface thoughts, but all he got were emotions, rage filled emotions, and that one hint of amusement that he thought might have been coming from Meryn Trant.
"Put this matter from your mind." Robert told him, as indelicate as always, and offering the wrong advice as always.
Harry nodded, as if it were that easy, and he made a mental note to write to Tywin as soon as he could.
"Let us go and watch the remainder of the joust, that will take your mind from things."
Harry nodded again and he allowed himself to be pulled to the tourney grounds, and he sat, staring as the joust resumed. Balon ceded his position in the lists and instead stood beside him throughout, casting him worried glances as Harry just sat and stared ahead, barely seeing anything of the jousting, but he was straining himself, trying to catch more surface thoughts, trying to control it…trying to link a thought back to a person. All he was doing was giving himself a headache, but still he never gave up.
He got flickers of emotions, which were mostly turning back to excitement now that the jousting had resumed, but there was still underlying anger. Harry tried to pinpoint it, straining himself and making his head throb with pain as he felt the anger and concern coming from Balon, the excitement from the crowds, but off to his right was more anger. He finally managed to pinpoint that to Ser Barristan and Harry had never felt so much respect for the old knight.
Harry didn't remember much of the jousting. He couldn't say who had gone up against who, but Ser Barristan's anger led him to victory after victory. He was named the champion, and at fifty-seven that was no small feat, but the crowds roared for Barristan the Bold, one of their heroes from the stories, only Barristan was still living, one of the last of a dying breed.
Harry was not allowed to wander off, not that he particularly wanted to, but his father kept a hand on him at all times, and the Kingsguard let no one near him. Balon especially was very severe in this 'rule' as he glared at everyone who even came within ten feet of Harry.
"Swann, take him to eat in the holdfast." His father ordered as they reached the Red Keep, skipping out on the feast down on the tourney grounds.
"Yes, Your Grace." Balon said clearly, bowing his head before taking Harry's hand.
Harry knew that Robert and the Kingsguard were going to deal with the man down in the black cells. He didn't want to know, he had no thoughts on torture or executions. He knew that one day, perhaps even soon, he would have to show such grit, but while everyone believed him to be a twelve year old boy, they would not expect him to sit in on lawful torture.
Instead Balon took him to the holdfast, as had been ordered of him, and in the family solar Harry was sat down and fussed over.
"I'm fine, Balon." Harry said softly.
Balon looked at him with a sceptical look.
"I don't believe that you're being truthful." He said. "That is the first time I've heard you say anything in three hours."
"I'm angry. I'm feeling humiliated and disrespected, but I'm fine." He admitted. "I never…I've never even thought that anyone would…that I would be…I can't believe it happened, Balon."
"I should have been right beside you." Balon said, looking equal parts angry and regretful. "I am always right beside you, but…I could see you, I was close enough to react if anyone tried to attack you, I just never thought about anyone touching you."
Harry sat and he brooded. "I don't think he knew I was a prince." He mused, even as Balon filled his plate for him and urged him to eat. "I don't think he would have dared touch me if he knew who I truly was. It could be he gets some sort of thrill touching children in tourney grounds, or walking down streets, and it's more likely that he just saw me bending over a table and tried his luck, not knowing who I was."
Balon considered that. "That is entirely possible." He sat, sitting next to him and eating himself. "I didn't see him before he walked past you. He broke my line of sight of you for perhaps only a moment. He didn't stop, he kept walking, so I deemed him no threat until you turned with that look on your face. I…I honestly thought that he might have slipped you a dagger to the back and I panicked."
"It was something else that he slipped me, and it wasn't to my back." Harry said, pushing his plate away from himself.
"You need to eat." Balon told him. "Starving yourself will not take away what he did."
Harry sighed, and pulled the plate back towards himself and he tore off one of the lamb's ribs from the rack and ripped a piece of tender meat from the bone with his teeth.
Balon watched him approvingly, and for a time they ate in silence.
"You didn't have to cede your place in the lists." Harry said.
"I wanted to be by your side, Harian. Not jousting and having fun while you looked so scared."
"Angry." Harry corrected. "I know he could not have harmed me, not with you and Ser Mandon there, I was not scared. I'm angry."
Balon nodded. "It is not a look I like on you." He admitted. "I much prefer your smiles and laughter."
"Truthfully, so do I." Harry chuckled. "This is…it's a bump, Balon, in an otherwise smooth road. It will not trouble me for long."
"I'm glad to hear it, but I will not venture from your side now. You are stuck with me for life."
That made Harry blush. He couldn't help it and he wanted to groan and throw himself under a bus…or a wagon here in Westeros, as the only available substitute. Why the hell did he have to form a crush on Balon of all people?
"As you are going to be a member of my Kingsguard that will actually be true." He settled for saying, in light of anything more embarrassing, like declaring undying love.
Balon went all bashful at hearing that, as he always did when they spoke about him being raised to the Kingsguard. Harry found it cute, but then it was all Balon had ever wanted, since he was a small boy growing up on tales of past Kingsguard members who were all legendary heroes to the young boys in Westeros. It was only natural that Balon got a little bashful over hearing that his boyhood dream would be coming true, but Harry still thought it was cute. He thought everything that Balon did these days was cute and it was agonisingly embarrassing.
"I'll expect the entire court to have heard about this by the morrow." He sighed. "My mother's creatures will tell her as soon as they can, and she will spread it around to spite me."
"You were not at fault for what happened to you, such perverted scum are everywhere, she cannot make this situation suit herself."
"She can try, and I'm sure that some will believe her." He fretted, hating the very thought of it.
"Then we limit her ability to do as such, Harian."
Harry considered that, and he looked up with a smile. "She will not wait, so we mustn't either."
Harry stood from his plate and Balon followed his lead. Neither of them had touched much of their food, but Balon was right, they had to limit her ability to damage him and his reputation, this couldn't wait.
They went to the Rookery first, and Harry sent a raven to his grandfather as a priority, detailing what had happened to him, how he had reacted, and how everyone else had reacted. He sent this raven off as he thought about his next steps. Cersei would tell other gossiping highborn ladies at court, inviting them to dinner and playing it off as concern or worry over what had happened to him, but Harry knew that that wasn't the way to spread rumours. Or at least it wasn't the fastest way. The servants were the gossip trail of any castle or keep, if the servants knew, then everyone would know.
Harry led Balon to the kitchens, and he pestered the bakers for some fruit tarts, insisting that he'd had a bad day and needed cheering up.
"Is everything well, my Prince?" An elderly kitchen woman asked him gently. She had been the same woman who would feed him when he was a neglected babe.
"I…it's difficult to speak of." He insisted. "Father is dealing with it, with the Kingsguard." He mumbled.
The servants all drew close, like moths to a flame as they sensed some choice gossip coming their way.
"Whatever has happened?" A baker asked, a frown between his eyes.
"I…some man molested me in the markets at the tourney." He said, ducking his head.
There were loud gasps, and some grunts of anger too.
"It was not your fault, my Prince." Balon said gently. "You did not see him."
"How did this happen?" A cook demanded.
"I was looking for toys for my brother and sister." Harry said, pretending to wipe away a tear. "I was leaning over a table and he…this man squeezed my bottom."
"He is being dealt with, my Prince." Balon told him, hugging him close like he was a boy much younger. "His Grace, your father, will make this scum regret ever touching you."
The servants all rushed to agree with Balon, telling him that he was not at fault, that the piece of scum would be tortured and then executed for his crime, and Harry was given some pear tarts drizzled in dark honey for his distress.
Harry left the kitchens, waving and smiling, thanking everyone for making him feel better, and he knew that very soon every stable boy and handmaiden would know the story. It would be backed up by the appearance of a dead body to dispose of, and blood to be cleaned up when his father and the Kingsguard were done punishing the pervert. The true story would be circled around, and it would reach the nobility staying in the Red Keep soon enough.
Harry's anger was already abating. But he swore that this would never happen again. He would always be on alert now for such things in the future. No one would touch him without his permission ever again.