Top Harry Drabble: Harry/Brandon Stark(brother of Ned, GoT, Pre-ASoIaF)

AN: For Brandon Stark, Ned's brother, my fancast is Alexander Dreymon in The Last Kingdom, which I totally recommend.

Brandon Stark couldn't breathe, gasping for air as the cord around his neck tightened. He stared out across the throne room as his father burned alive, still gasping for breath as he tried to reach the sword to cut the cord. He distantly heard King Aerys laughing as black spots appeared within his vision. His lungs burned and his feet twitched as he tried to move. The sword had been placed just out of reach but if Brandon moved just a little, mayhaps he could… The cord tightened around his body even more, the Tyroshi strangle device living up to its' name.

His vision dimmed as he tried to catch his breath, tried to move towards the sword. His arms shook and his body trembled before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, out of air. The last thing he heard was the king's maniacal laughter and his father screaming as he was burned to death.

He woke up to an arm holding him down as someone tried to remove the cord around his neck. Brandon let out a strangled breath and tried to bolt upright only to collide with the… man who was trying to help him. He could feel the stone floor underneath half his body but his chest and his head were lying on the man's lap.

"Be still! I'm trying to help!"

The hand on his chest pushed him down, firm and strong, warm. Brandon hesitantly lay back down, still struggling to breathe and not succeeding. The Tyroshi strangle device pushed in on him tighter still and his heart still beat faster, like it was trying to push its way out of his chest.

"Fuck, this thing is tight."

One of the man's hands reached out to slip underneath the Tyroshi strangle device, along with a wooden stick and Brandon sucked in as much air as he could. The man muttered something under his breath and then he was free, carefully held within the man's arms as he sucked in more air desperately. Energy rose around him, curling around him and then disappeared.

Tears pooled in his eyes and he so wanted to swipe them away. He didn't want anyone in the throne room to see him vulnerable, much less the man who was helping him.

As he recovered, his body still trembling and twitching from the lack of air, he studied the man who had just saved his life. The man who was half holding him in her arms, his upper body in his lap. The young man looked to be the same as he did, though mayhaps he was a year or two older than him. He wore his moderately long, black hair back but it seemed to be trying to escape the tie that he had collected it with. His bright, almost glowing green eyes were studying him as much as he was studying him. The strange scar on his forehead tempted him much as he raised a shaky hand to touch it, tracing it gently.

It looked like one of those lightning bolts that touched Westerosi ground during a summer storm, forking across his skin. The scar itself was bright red and looked like it hurt. He wondered what kind of weapon could cause that injury. Though he wasn't familiar to him, no sense of recognition flitting through his mind.

The man's eyes seemed to stare into his very soul as he held Brandon, raising an eyebrow. "Are you alright?"

Brandon sucked in another deep breath of air and inhaled… His stomach roiled at the smell of burnt flesh and he tried to breathe again only for the man holding him to shake his head.

"Breathe through your mouth, not through your nose. It's better that way."

The color drained from his face as he realized what he was smelling, memory coming back and making his heart race. They were right in the midst of the throne room. Right in the center of court. Brandon let out a low strangled breath and his past meal rebelled, this time successful as it came back up. The man holding him helped him up, holding him at the waist as he sicked up. His hair stayed out of his face as he did, mayhaps being held back by the man too.

Fingers stroked circles on his back as he watched as his midday meal come back up. The man that was assisting him was speaking quietly but all Brandon could make out was the reassuring tone.

"What is the meaning of this? Guards! Who are you?"

He flinched at the king's words as his body stopped rebelling. The fingers on his back did not stop their motions, only moved up to his neck and scratched lightly at his skin, making goose pimples ride up his arms. Brandon shivered at the touch and leaned into it, his knees trembling with exhaustion.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You were the one who burned his father to death! You call yourself a king."

Steel was drawn and Brandon was finally able to keep his eyes open, peeling them open to look at the iron throne. King Aerys had stood up and was glaring at them. His kingsguard had all drawn their swords as Brandon's friends had drawn theirs. Ser Elbert Arryn, Kyle Royce, Ethan Glover, and Jeffory Mallister had all come to King's Landing with him to confront Prince Rhaegar and they were apparently ready to fight for him too. Their faces were pale and their eyes were wide.

Everyone had just witnessed Lord Rickard Stark burned to death right before their very eyes. Hells, Brandon would have died if it hadn't been for the strange man intervening. And no one had said a word in their defense. No one had thought that the king using fire as his champion was wrong. Or if they had, they hadn't opened their mouths.

"You're a traitor! Guards, arrest them! Arrest all the northerners! I will have them dead!"

The arms holding him tightened and then relaxed, with one arm pulling away. Brandon looked right into the man's eyes and whatever the man saw made his lips curl into a frown. "Can you stand?"

"Aye."

The man's eyes narrowed before straightening and turning towards the king. He left one arm around Brandon's waist though and Brandon would have complained but his knees… His whole body was trembling and his energy had fallen with his father's death.

"You are not fit to be a king."

The kingsguard advanced on them, joined by the goldcloaks in the hall, and Brandon's friends closed ranks, keeping Brandon in the middle.

"Fuck." The man next to him stared at him and then glanced over to one of his men. "Glover, you're his squire, aren't you? Come over here and hold Brandon up."

Ethan Glover startled and turned around, his pale eyes wide with suspicion as he stared at the man aiding them.

"I will deal with the king. Lord Stark needs help."

"Aye. Brandon?"

Ethan took two steps towards him and reached out an arm, curling it around Brandon's shoulders. The green eyed man next to him raised an eyebrow at him before stepping out of their circle, letting Brandon have a good look at him. He spotted the Tyroshi strangle device peeking out from one of the man's cloak pockets and he flinched, unconsciously taking a step back.

"What's your name?" Brandon questioned, his voice hoarse from yelling out.

"Harry Potter."

Harry stepped out of the circle of men and faced the king and his kingsguard, seeing Sers Jaime Lannister, Gerold Hightower, Lewyn Martell, Jonothor Darry, and Barristan Selmy all had their blades out and pointed at him. Harry shrugged them off, feeling the elder wand hum and slip itself into his fingers.

King Aerys stood before the throne, wild and crazy. He looked paranoid and not like a king. His beard and hair were long and matted and filled with dirt. His fingernails were so long and sharp that they looked like blades themselves. The king had already burned one man to death and had been bent on killing Brandon Stark too.

Harry hadn't been in Westeros for very long, not even for 24 hours, and to see this… He had been unable to stand aside as Brandon was almost strangled to death, had come too late to save the father. His saving people thing again, he supposed. It didn't help that Brandon was very attractive, in a beautiful, feral way. Brandon Stark looked almost wolf like and if Harry didn't know better, he'd have said the man was a werewolf. But he couldn't sense anything about him, just a little, tiny hint of ancient, cold power.

King Aerys stayed right before the throne and Harry took another step, raising an eyebrow at the man. He risked another minute to skim the man's surface thoughts and almost instantly fled back into his mind. The king's thoughts were wild and unorganized, crazy with the need to see someone consumed by fire again. King Aerys Targaryen, the second of his name, was aroused by this, by seeing someone burning to death. Harry could see the outlines of a bulge in just the right spot and that made up his mind, wishing he could unsee it.

Harry flinched bodily and gripped the elder wand, taking it out of his pocket and whispered two words.

The king slumped over dead in seconds, his sightless eyes open and then Harry turned around and slipped through the ring of men, catching Brandon just as his knees gave out from under him.

Chaos reigned around them as people realized the king was dead. The kingsguard all turned as one and pointed their swords at Harry, who raised an eyebrow and just stared at them.

"The king is dead! Send for the prince! He must be told!"

"Kingslayer! You!"

"You killed the king!"

"Yeah? Says who?" Harry questioned wearily, his eyes still on Brandon as the man leaned into him further. Harry sighed and wrapped an arm about Brandon, letting his fingers trace patterns about his back, running up to his neck and squeezing slightly. Brandon melted into him, heaving a great sigh of relief, as his shaky breathing evened out into sleep. "He could have had a heart attack. I didn't do anything."

The knights of the kingsguard all stared at him wearily.

"Send for Prince Rhaegar then," Harry offered quietly. "He will hopefully be a better king than Aerys was."

"You are under arrest for the death of the king."

"Yeah? Try me," Harry retorted, turning his head to glare at the speaker. "If I really did kill the king, I can kill you with two words."

Five months later found Harry Potter and Brandon Stark fighting back to back in the Stepstones. Pirates were spread out around them, wielding all manner of weapons and all keeping their distance from Brandon, who wielded a silver bladed sword that no one had ever seen before. It was similar in quality to valyrian steel but it did not have the rippled sight to it.

The Wild Wolf and the Sorcerer.

Some pirates had even seen a big, black wolf fighting alongside the man who wielded magic. Though for the men who did, the wolf's mouth was the last thing they saw.

The sun was shining over them and Harry had dirt and blood in his hair as he cast spell after spell, blasting the pirates back several hundred feet. Some were flung into the air and dropped off rooftops while others were left bleeding and cut up.

"You just had to rile them up!" Harry yelled before whispering a spell under his breath.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Oh, right. You just had to taunt them and say you were a better swordsman and horse rider than they all were."

"Well, I am!"

Harry snorted, his heart racing and sweat dripping down his back as he heard Brandon finish off the last of the pirates. "They never learn, do they?"

Brandon huffed out a loud laugh and as the last one fell to the ground, turned around and pulled Harry into a hot kiss. Harry laughed and pushed Brandon away, making sure that Gryffindor's sword was not facing anywhere near any body parts. Brandon struck the sword into the dirt underneath them and looked around at the alleyway they were in. They were in between two stores and no one else was around, having heard the sounds of fighting and fled or joined in.

"How about here?" Brandon questioned, his eyes wide and Harry's eyes narrowed at the bulge in Brandon's leggings.

"Here? Where anyone could see us? Oh, however will I cope? You're a wolf at heart, you know that?"

Brandon snorted and threw off his cloak, reached up to pull off his tunic. Harry rolled his eyes, his own cock hardening at the sight before him. Brandon Stark, the Wild Wolf, was wild and hot and his. He licked his lips and stripped off his own shirt, dropping his cloak to the ground and closing the distance between them to push Brandon up against the wall of the merchant's store behind them.

Brandon laughed, his voice going shaky with arousal as Harry pushed him up against the stone wall. He faced the wall with Harry all spread out against him, his hands moving up what bare skin he could touch.

"I'd never thought a Stark could run so hot," Harry muttered heatedly, as his nails traced over Brandon's bare arms, bringing up goose pimples. "With all the Winter is Coming intensity."

Brandon opened his mouth to reply when one of Harry's hands moved down, tracing down his arse to rub up against his opening. He let out a strangled shout as Harry's other arm wrapped around him, his already wet fingers palming his cock. Heat built at the base of his spine and he yelled out as Harry stroked him once, twice, before withdrawing.

He whined and tried to arch back into those wonderful fingers only for one of Harry's hands to press on his back, pinning him down. "Stay."

Brandon's heart raced even faster at the word, something within him melting into it. The wolf shape that Harry had taught him would fall back onto his back and show his belly to the man behind him and Brandon surrendered to it, as Harry's hands moved over him again. Pleasure sparked throughout him, little hints of Harry using his magic to tease him.

Fingers stroked his cock again and he whined into it, moving against the wall in front of him to get more of that friction. When one finger breached him and curled, hitting that spot that made him shiver, he moaned and bucked. His cock was so very hard now and he was aching with it as he opened his mouth.

"Harry."

"You close?"

"Please."

"Almost, Brandon. You want me inside you when you come?"

"Yes. Please… Fuck."

Two more fingers entered him, stretching him enough and he groaned into the sensation. Harry moved a hand back to his shoulders, holding him there as he trembled with pleasure, warmth spreading throughout him as his heart raced. Sweat dripped down into his eyes.

The fingers withdrew and he almost groaned, his muscles constricting around nothing and then Harry slid in, hitting home on the first try. Brandon let out a yell as pleasure rode through him, sinking deeper onto his lover's cock as he moved around it.

"Brandon Stark, my wolf. You're beautiful."

He whined again, hearing his hoarse voice and wondering why he sounded like that.

"You feel so good," Harry murmured breathlessly, his fingers stroking his back and moving up to his shoulder blades. "You ready?"

Brandon couldn't even think, couldn't even talk as Harry withdrew a little bit and then thrust back in hard. He felt lips against his skin, on the crook between his neck and shoulders and the feel of teeth sent him over the line. His release rode through him, his toes curling in his boots and his fingers scrabbling to reach back to Harry's. As Brandon came, so did Harry, as his muscles constricted around him.

He slumped back into Harry's arms, shaking with pleasure. He felt Harry press a kiss to his back, to his neck and he turned around, taking the last kiss from Harry on his lips. Harry grinned into it and held him, both of them naked but for their boots.

"No taunting the Dothraki if we see them," Harry muttered, flicking him on his shoulder. "We really would be in trouble if that happened."

"But-"

"No buts. Not even King Rhaegar would help us then."

"But he's wed to my sister."

"Brandon… No taunting the Dothraki, no matter how hot it makes you."

"What if we conquered the Stepstones?" Brandon tried, nuzzling into Harry's arms. "In King Rhaegar's name, of course."

Harry pulled back a little, his green eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, sure, good luck with that."

Brandon snorted and pressed a kiss to Harry's scar. "I am glad my brother is Lord of Winterfell now, instead of me."

Harry's lips twitched up into a grin. "You just love me because I taught you how to shape shift."

"Those lessons were very entertaining."

"Brandon! All of those lessons turned into sex," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes and glancing around for their clothes. "We should get back to our room."

"It was good sex though."

Harry let out an exasperated noise and threw his tunic at him. Brandon laughed, kicked his boots off, and shifted shape between one step and the next, grabbing Harry's tunic in his mouth and loped off.

Harry's yells followed him as he ran and he grinned, showing long, sharp teeth.