Enjoy!
The group of Northerner's stayed on the outskirts of King's Landing till the end of the week as planned.
Ned had taken to assigning several loyal Stark men as Hadrian's personal guard along with Lord Dustin whilst in King's Landing so that he could oversee the transfer of gold, he also took the liberty of sending a raven to Winterfell the very night he received the order to rebuild the Moat, to Benjen so as to get stone masons and builders to begin repairing the Moat and it's twenty towers. For now the expenses would come out of the Stark treasury until the funds from the crown treasury could be brought to bear.
Hadrian was busy doing as much exploring of King's Landing. He had wanted to go into the Red Keep but Ned Stark was steadfast in his resolve not to jeopardize his nephew and the North by having him near the Lannisters.
While Harry could have easily changed his mind with the liberal application of magic, Hadrian knew the risks outweighed the benefits of studying the ambient magics of the Keep, considering he had his own massive and powerful reserves of his own magic that only grew and regenerated as he used them and studying something new would be a waste of time when he could stick with reliable arcane spells that he was proficient in but also because he made it a point to try and not use magic on his family unless it was for their own safety.
Instead, he often visited the Street of Steel in search of someone capable of reforging Valyrian steel and other than that memorize the entire city layout, with the help of occlumency, so if he needed to apparate here at a moment's notice he could do so.
He found one man, Tobho Mott of Qohor, in particular claiming he was able to reforge the magical steel and Harry almost doubted it before several other smith also admitted that Mott was able to do so, albeit with begrudging respect.
So in regards to obtaining that particular information, the six year old Lord Paramount of the North, offered to give patronage to him and be made the master smith of Winterfell. The response given was expected. "You cannot expect me to just up and leave do you? What do you take me for, boy? A fool?" The middle-aged man exclaimed. "You are not the first one to offer me this and certainly won't be the last."
Harry nodded, unperturbed. While he could just force the man's compliance with the heavy use of compulsions, he would then have to constantly monitor him and re-apply the compulsions. There was also the chance where the man grow into the compulsions and stay of his own free will but long-term compulsions came with the more likely risk of the person becoming immune to them.
Harry learned this the hard way in his previous life. If he was still in his previous body, he would've had the scars from stab wounds to prove it but the phantom pain was still there as he subconsciously felt about where the scar would be. Snapping himself from his thoughts, he continued. "No, I don't expect you to just leave. You obviously are doing well enough for yourself here in King's Landing especially with the rebellion over." Harry said while admiring a shield. His escort of ten men was outside.
From questioning several smiths, a lot of them had migrated to the capital due to the large amount of soldiers and lords which is work to be had and money to be made.
"However," The young Stark continued. "let us make a deal. When I come into power in the North. I will have to return here to swear fealty. I will make this offer once again. Ten years is a lot of time to reconsider is it not? By then, I expect to have the North recovered from this war and prospering."
The master smith looked skeptically at him before nodding. "Should you prove to be a reliable source of work then I may even reconsider before then but until such a thing happens I will remain here."
"That is all I ask." Harry said holding out his hand for the man to shake which he eventually did. If he didn't get his loyalty willingly by then, he was going to pilfer his mind of the secrets to Valyrian steel then deposit them into another capable smith that he did have the loyalty of.
While the standards of his previous life prevented him from outright doing so, that didn't mean he was against venturing into the moral grey area of getting what he wanted and/or needed.
After all the Ministry for Magic and it's backwards laws didn't exist here.
Ned had specifically called for Hadrian to attend a feast in celebratory victory in honor of the Northmen before they left. It was a rather boisterous affair and Harry was able to slip out unnoticed rather easily followed and escorted by a large group of northern soldiers who had also wanted to go to bed. They would be leaving for the North in the morning anyways.
Harry left the city to the remaining Northmen in the outskirts with a skip in his step.
They would be leaving for Riverrun in the morning and from there to Winterfell to begin the revitalization of the North into what it was meant to be. Hadrian went to sleep with a smile on his face as thoughts went to his plans for the North.
Harry soon found himself at the King's Cross Station. He didn't know if it was simply appearing that way simply because it was his rather bland interpretation of limbo, or if Death itself had constructed ,what essentially was it's workplace, to appear that way.
His multi-colored irises looking around in surprise as he couldn't fathom why he was here.
"You are here because we deem it so." A booming voice stated and Harry saw the figure of Death materialized from black smoke. It's form twisting and churning as It's form took shape. Another figure coalesced from a beam of light that seemed to come from nowhere. This figure stood more pronounced than Death as It seemed to be supported by his scythe, if only slightly.
The figure was oddly, more feminine in nature as well as what appeared to be a white chitin that was both revealing and slightly sheer above the waist and seemed to be clinging so much to her womanly curves that it might as well have been a second skin. She had hair that was as dark as night and not a shade lighter but also had a golden blind-fold that covered her eyes with full pink lips.
"This is my counterpart, Fate. She has granted us this one meeting until it is time for dealing with the pretender gods and afterwards when you are ready to embark on your next great journey." Harry decided that for all intents and purposes Death was male. The deity paused for split-second. "I have to warn you that the pretender gods have noticed your presence and while they have not yet begun to move against you, they are wary and have begun plans to remove you from the board should it become necessary."
"As Death's champion, " The deity of Fate spoke in a silky smooth voice. While normally, those tones set the hairs on Harry's neck to attention and his instincts on alert, they oddly fit her, in a 'Let's not be offensive to a goddess sort of way'. "you have the right to know when you're enemies are preparing for their eventual clash with gods above them. They will not sit idly by while you gather your wits. They will come at you and when they do, you best be ready to retaliate in kind."
Harry wasn't one to turn down free information. The Slytherin side of him actually appreciating that but he knew this wasn't the only thing they wanted to discuss.
"You are correct, young Hadrian." Fate announced slightly scaring Harry to which she clarified in an amused voice. "We are deities. Gods in our own right. Being able to read the minds of mortals is but a drop of water in the vast ocean that is our power. You wizards merely use a bastardized version of that by bending the energies to your will."
Death continued for his counterpart. "Your ancestor, Rickard Stark, wishes to have words with you and we have granted his request as it would prove beneficial to our plans." And with a gesture of his hand, where Harry spied the Resurrection Stone resting on his skeletal finger, an older man with a long and stern face, a neatly trimmed beard and greying, dark brown hair that went to his shoulders appeared. He was wearing an ethereal set of steel armor and what looked to be golden spurs along with a wolf pelt cloak. The Old Wolf's grey eyes bore a measuring gaze into his grandson.
"You look so much like young Brandon." The ethereal being finally spoke. The former Stark lord paused before he gestured towards Death and Fate. "These two tell me that I do not have much time so I will endeavor to take advantage of it.
In the study of Winterfell, there is a hidden compartment behind the painting of the Direwolf, which has been pinned there for centuries if not millennia. All Lords of Winterfell and their heirs know of this compartment. In my haste and stupidity to get to King's Landing to free your father, it escaped my thoughts that Eddard may also become the Lord of Winterfell, it would've been lost for countless generations due to my ignorance." He stated with a stern and self-berating voice. He gathered his thoughts before continuing. "But the Old Gods have decided to allow me a chance at redemption. In that compartment are documents that have the many locations of vast deposits of gold, silver and iron in the Northern Mountains, enough to rival the Lannisters."
"Your plan on allowing the North to expand it's prowess relied on the mines didn't it?" Hadrian interrupted.
Rickard nodded. "House Goldstark was to be the new cadet branch to be founded with the help of the mountain clans of the North, who are a third of the North's population, with their help the Starks would be able to easily field a hundred thousand trained men in time's of need and not the measly forty thousand. House Goldstark would specialize in the procurement of those metals."
"Gold and silver. That can't be it, can it?" Hadrian prodded while a light smile graced the usually stoic Stark man.
"No, in the Lonely Hills, it's been reported that there are a few mines of jewels, more likely diamonds and rubies and emeralds, from what I have read. The Wolfswood being for the most part untouched thus giving us an untapped source of strong timber to build a new Northern Fleet? Perhaps two? It is only suitable that a son of a Brandon rebuilds our strength at sea." The elder Stark stated with a knowing look directed to his grandson. "The mountains south of the Wolfswood have even larger deposits of iron."
"How did you plan to convince the mountain clans to help?" Harry questioned.
"The mountain clans are more civilized than the ones in the Vale. They know that we don't lord over them and will come into the fold once you give them reason to." Rickard stated plainly. "The exact details have never been a concern." The deities who had stepped away from the two conversing relatives returned.
"Time to go, Rickard." Death stated to which the elder Stark nodded.
"Hadrian, do not let anyone get in your way, show them what it means to be a Wolf of the North." And with that parting thought Rickard Stark, the Old Wolf, faded from view.
The was a respectful silence before Death broke it. "Rickard is a good man. You would do well not to let a man like him down."
Hadrian responded with his own line of thought. "The days ahead of me are going to be busy."
The two beings nodded, if only slightly, at that. "My counterpart has gathered what remained in the vaults beneath the bank of Gringotts in your past life, however, it amounted to what would be a two million gold dragons in your new world as the rest was seized by the mortal governments. He has placed the gold in Winter treasury at Winterfell." Fate interjected.
"Why not just summon me a philosopher's stone? Or just even more gold?" Harry asked genuinely curious.
Death chuckled darkly at this while Fate answered slightly condescendingly. "In Death's embrace, do you find riches and glory? In life you may, but Death finds everyone equally whether you are the most powerful king or the lowliest peasant. For him to give you riches would be against his very nature, he bent the rules by giving you the last of Wizarding Britain's gold as an inheritance of sorts." Fate continued on. "Fate has no champions as everyone must achieve their destiny no matter how they may try to avoid it. Just as Tom Marvolo Riddle was destined to perish by your hand, you were destined to take the mantle of the Chosen One."
"Our time grows short, Young Hadrian." Death interrupted and Fate nodded. "Do what you must to strengthen your position and when the time comes, the agents of the pretender gods will die by your hand, and then these farce for gods will be taken by mine."
Hadrian nodded and as the light of the King's Cross Station faded from view, so too did the deities of Death and Fate.
Hadrian sat upright with a suddenness that would disturb most people as he brandished a steel dagger he kept under a pillow and nearly slit the neck of the man waking him only did sheer curiosity of why in the world he was being waken at the early stages of dawn was the man spared his life.
"Sorry, milord." A man by the name of Devon, one of the Stark men-at-arms appointed to his personal guard, stated with an amused smile. His expression did not camouflage the fear in his eyes however. "Lord Eddard Stark wants to get a move on. He says you are to be ready in an hour."
"Thanks, Devon." Harry stated bleary eyed. He was so glad that his vision was fixed when born into this world. "Get my horse ready, please?"
"Aye, my lord." The man quickly left, not that Harry blamed him. His cool and calculating demeanor often frightened people and coupled with the fact that Hadrian pulled a knife on the man when he was just waking up tended to have a fearful effect on those involved.
Harry did not dally. He quickly changed, seeing as the their next major stop would be at the Crossroads Inn and after that Riverrun and then onto the final leg of the journey from Moat Cailin to Winterfell where he could finally get his plans to be kicked into high gear.
He strapped a short-sword to his waist and a small mail hauberk with a fitted set of boiled leather armor with the Direwolf sigil stitched into the both shoulders, courtesy of Robert Baratheon who took an instant liking to Hadrian when he unnerved several Lannister soldiers at the Red Keep the night before by simply staring at them.
The Stark heir was quite eager and was getting rather impatient and the night before, in his honest opinion, was a blatant waste of time.
After what seemed like forever, the massive caravan of five hundred plus Northmen began journeying home for the first time in two years and for a few of them would be seeing home for the first time.
It was a two weeks later when they had arrived at Riverrun. Harry spent most of the time learning more about the North from his uncle and entertaining young Jon who always either gurgled happily in his arms or fell asleep in them.
Jon was a relatively quiet baby other than that. He had heard that the wet-nurse was actually incredibly happy about this not that Hadrian blamed her. He had, after all, heard how much of a chore taking care of a baby actually was by numerous women both in this life and the one before.
When they arrived at Riverrun, they were greeted with fanfare as Ned Stark was a war-hero for the rebels. His lady wife Catelyn Tully looking both relieved and extremely happy while holding a babe in her arms, one called Robb in honor of Ned's hot-headed friend. Hoster Tully called for a feast in their honor to which they greatly appreciated especially Hadrian as he was growing tired of bread and salted and dried jerky with the occasional rabbit, he was able to spot and kill.
The next morning came and went and Ned had delayed telling Catelyn of little Jon and himself. A small part of Hadrian was going to enjoy watching Ned getting chewed out for fathering a bastard and not immediately telling Catelyn about it.
While he knew what to expect from Hoster Tully of his existence, he particularly did not know what to expect of the lady wife of the honorable Ned Stark. The Stark heir had seen Catelyn studying him at the celebratory feast and could see the confused glances both her and Hoster sent his way when he sat at the table beside Ned on the raised dais and while he technically supposed to be sitting to the right of Hoster Tully as he was technically the Lord Stark of Winterfell, he would rather leave that sport for Ned to take care for the time being. Hadrian had left before he could be caught in an interrogation.
Ned had brought both Catelyn Tully and her father to the training yard where he was busy shooting arrows into a target fifty meters away. He hit a bullseye when Ned cleared his throat to get his attention. Hadrian paid him no mind and instead released another arrow that split that same arrow in half and embedded itself in the bullseye once again. He would not let his focus be swayed by anyone. To anyone else, it would've looked like childish rebellion, but Harry hoped that subconscious thoughts took hold that he would not be controlled.
Hadrian did not need to use magic to know that they were already uncomfortable. "Hadrian." Ned's words finally gaining his nephew's attention.
Hadrian slowly turned. His gaze unfazed at the uppity expressions of Catelyn and Hoster. "Uncle." Hadrian deliberately answered. He had to contain his smirk while he mentally applauded his Slytherin side.
Say what you will about the Tully family but, the ones he has encountered thus far, they were quick to deduce what he meant by just that one word.
Hoster looked as if he had sucked on a lemon and turned an impressive shade of red while Catelyn's jaw hung loosely, a stark (Hadrian internally chuckled at that) contrast to her proper lady upbringing.
Both of the Tullys snapped their attention to Ned who stood firm under the glare given to him by the head of the Tully family. The Wolf would not buckle to the Fish. Catelyn on the other hand looked furious at him but for different reasons. First, it was the bastard and now Brandon's son. In all actuality the fact that Ned Stark had a bastard rather than the Wild Wolf's son, legitimate or not.
She expected it from the Wild Wolf and because of that Catelyn disliked Brandon and preferred Ned over the older Stark.
"He's a bastard." Hoster proclaimed and immediately Ned rounded on him. Hadrian internally smiled at the unrest he caused with just his presence. He went back to shooting arrows, the young Stark would intervene if necessary but he knew Ned Stark would not let his brother be disgraced in that way.
He would later figure out that it was his aura of magic caused others to passively be slightly uncomfortable in his presence should he allow it, unless they had the mental fortitude to combat it.
"He is not." Ned barked, the wolfs blood in him taking over slightly it was not flowing in him as strong as it was in both of his deceased siblings. "Brandon married Ashara Dayne in secret. He would not let his fate be controlled. My father was furious but did not want to anger Dorne and the Iron Throne by having the marriage annulled."
Hoster was visibly seething but held his tongue and stalked off. In the elder's Fish's mind, he figured he might be able to get rid off Hadrian rather easily to suffer some accident, that or control the North through the regency of Ned and subtly start having the North rely more on more on the Riverlands for food. The boy will listen to Ned. He thought. It wouldn't do for the North to buy more from the Reach.
Unbeknownst to all those present however, Hadrian would not allow the North be bound to anyone any longer. Harry loosed an arrow and this time it pierced an apple he had set above the target a few moments prior.
Catelyn only scoffed as Ned looked at her, expecting a scolding on his brother's behalf. She left afterwards stating she wanted to check on baby Robb.
The soft-spoken man moved towards Hadrian and stepped into a relaxed posture behind his nephew as he loosed another arrow. Hadrian was at this point was attempting to turn the target into a new arrow quiver as about two dozen arrows were sticking close to the center.
"I've been meaning to speak to you." Ned said aloud, garnering the attention of the younger Stark. Harry turned with a slight smile on his face, his multi-colored irises blinking innocently at the Quiet Wolf. "You are a lot smarter than people your age. I have met lords with less wit about then you do."
Hadrian nodded but his face contorted into a confused expression. He did not see where he was going with this.
His uncle continued at the expression, his thick accent making it sounding gruff and forced but Harry knew it was anything but. "As regent I am prepared to give you the freedom to do as you please with the North." Harry's eyes widened. "However, any and all ideas you have regarding its future will be run by me. If I feel that it is not possible or not for the betterment of the North then I will countermand it. You will attend lessons with the maester for two hours every day and you will drill with the Master-At-Arms in the evening for two hours an hour before supper every day. At the end of everyday, you will tell me what you have learned." He paused and Harry noted that he looked every bit the responsible parent despite his rather youthful appearance. "When the Moat is repaired and I feel that you are capable running the North without my oversight, I will allow you to do so, however should I feel you are not ready, I will stay at Winterfell till you are able to do so."
Hadrian nodded, prepared to work for his inheritance. The North would be a different place by the time he was done with it.
Until Next Time!