Dreaming is something he's both loved and loathed, he loved the good ones, but hates, hated? Waking up after them.
The nightmares he can handle, his first life had practically been a nightmare in of itself, having to suffer through the Dursley's, then fight just to survive.
The first thing he registers in his dream is the cold.
The biting cold that seeps into your skin making you feel like the frosted fingers of winter scaling down your spine.
The barren winter land before him doesn't draw his attention, no what does is the three eyes upon the raven above him perched on the tree closest to him.
The red eyes of theirs peering into his own green ones.
After a moment of silence the creature tilts their head before cawing as it takes flight only to land on his shoulder.
He thanks Hedwig for the experience with birds perching themselves on his person, as the clawed foot of the raven clutches his sleeping clothes.
"Fool," the thing caws, making him quirk a brow.
"Tch, I don't need a dream raven to tell me I'm a fool." He stares dryly, lifting his hand to shove the thing off, watching as the creature swacks indignantly as it retreats back to its perch, ruffling their feathers, making Harry roll his eyes as he takes in his surroundings more thoroughly.
"You fool, you fool." The thing repeats the distorted tone making its mockery eerie.
Closing his eyes, he thinks of a new scenario, hoping his mind will cooperate with him.
"Still here." The thing caws smugly as Harry opens his eyes only to see the same surroundings.
"pretender." The thing caws.
"Fake child, with too much power," The red eyes seem to flare as it screeches the words, their tail feathers flick in agitation.
Harry straightens at that, truly looking at the bird.
An oppressive feeling rising in the air as his magic pools in anticipation towards their masters will,"and just how do you know of this?"
"And this one?" The nameless Maester, Harry can admit he's not taken the time to remember his name, asks him pointing towards the sigil, shaking his head he disregards the weird dream-not-dream.
Focusing on said sigil he takes in the figure of a red clothed man standing with a bow drawn, surrounded in a green field. "The Tarly's?" He states dutifully, thanking his advanced mind for being able to retain the information much easier.
His adult intelligence and the elasticity of a child brain from the learning neurons children have are actively making him retain anything he sees at a subconscious level.
Makes for a weird experience.
"Very good, young lord." The dull reply makes him withhold a sigh, wishing he didn't have his to sit through these lessons, but understand the necessity.
Turning his gaze back towards the window looking down in the courtyard where his older brothers are Harry watches with envy as they are trained, the upcoming tourney
"young lord, I know this isn't of interest to you, but it's important that you learn these things." The man speaks his aged voice thinly veiling his impatience as he continues with a placating tone.
"If you can tell me the next three houses, I'll permit you to leave lessons early." That makes him perk up, looking over towards the aged man he can't help but give the prude a smile, nothing beats classes with Snape in terms of disparity.
"Alright, Maester." He pushed extra excitement hoping the fact that he can't remember the old man's name wasn't noticed.
——-
"Come on! Is that all you got?" The willowy frame of Willas says as he dodges the incoming thrust from his younger brother's wooden sword, his lanky form of ten and four easily stepping out of the way of Garlan's swing.
The pudgy boy, not giving up despite his brother's advantage in both height, and agility.
"Gah!" Willas grins at the frustrated growl coming from his younger brother, he continues to step out of Garlan's reach, playfully smacking his own sword against his brother's undefended areas.
"Dammit, Stop moving!" Garlan whines as he slams his sword into the ground where Willas had been moments ago.
Willas brings up his sword protecting his face when Garlan throws him a particularly nasty swing, the vibrations from catching his brother's blade with his own rippling up his arms as they stand in stalemate.
Willas is definitely more agile than Garland, but his brother has a surprisingly amount of strength.
Looking past his sparring partner his gaze locks onto the approaching figure of his youngest brother escorted by one of their houses' servants, the whole castle particularly the staff are absolutely enamored with his brother, though he can't blame them as the young boy's face lights up as he catches sight of Willas and Garlan.
Willas can understand how easily those bright eyes can entrap you, having been victim of them plenty of time.
He swears they even work on grandmother.
He steps back Garlan doing the same as he notices what he had gotten distracted by, both turning their attention to the fiery young boy whose spirit outshines all others.
"Willy! That was awesome!" Willas can't help, but flush he isn't one to be boastful, but he feels proud whenever his brothers praise him, especially Haedrian, or Harry as he's affectionately called by those close to him.
"I can't wait till I'm able to wield a real sword!" Harry exclaims, reaching them the servant bowing and returning to their task seeing as the knights can keep the boy safe, well more safe then she would have been able to.
Willas gives his brother a blank stare watching as the boy puts on an innocent face acting like they haven't stumbled upon Harry practicing with steel.
They only kept it secret because they weren't able to deny their brother anything, plus the boy was using a silly needle like sword that couldn't do much. Their brother called it fencing, something about it being suitable for his small form, and lack of strength.
Such an odd term, then again their brother isn't the most normal child, but the Tyrells have always been eccentric
Waving his hand he directs Haedrian to join, giving Garlan a look to hold back his swings if they are to let their brother join their mock spar.
"Wanna join?" Willas asks, not bothering to turn as he hears the excited 'yes!'
——-
A few months later
Oberyn lets his gaze turn to the flickering sigil of the roses of the Reach, the Tyrells.
Sitting on the horse that makes the young lordling, who is still growing his chest hair, look even smaller than his ten and four years old, the shine of the boys armor gleaming like a fresh babe bare to the word, showing everyone just how green the boy is.
Not a single mare is on the child's armor, he thought he'd be facing actual competition, not a death waiting to happen.
Looking past the pale faced boy, he sweeps his snake like eyes across the viewing section, looking for the fool who would allow this to happen, his eyes catch the similar colors of the Tyrells focusing on the plump form of Mace. The fool seems to be boasting about the poor child he's facing, if the man's hand movements are any indication.
Mace's flamboyant gestures almost smack the unfortunate lord who's sitting next to Lord Tyrell in the face.
Though it's not the Lord who keeps his attention, no it's the Bright green eyes that seem to pull him in, he can't help but give the young boy a small smile, wondering how he'll react since Oberyn is his brother's opponent.
He's surprised when he receives a deep look, before the look that is too old for such a face, disappears in light of a solemn smile.
Unfortunately the king drags his attention away before he can analyze why such a look entered the boy's eyes, his loud voice carrying across the area.
Oberyn has to restrain the urge to shove his spear into the fat pig's gut, the only consolidation is how miserable the royal couple seems.
"Begin!" The king shouts.
With that he proceeds to ruin a child's future.
He can practically see the moment the boys arm falters as the weight of the lance and the jolt of the horse overpower the undeveloped frame, with great resolve he tries to aim his own lance at the least lethal area he can find, hoping the boys armor shields the fragile frame of the boy who's younger than his own daughter, his precious Obara.
The sickening sound of his lance hitting the boys chest will resonate in his head for a long while, haunting his dreams.
He can only watch with a numbness as Willas, Oberyn will give the brave boy the respect of addressing him by his name.
He watches as Willas crumbles onto the ground, his leg is bent at an awkward angle.
Everyone is silent as they all stare at the broken form, laying still the horse he had been on coming to a stop just as it pasts Oberyn.
"WILLY!" The scream jolts him out of his shock, he watches as the even smaller boy seems to leap over the railing separating the audience from the ring, showing impressive agility by landing in a crouch before sprinting towards his, 'willy'.
He can see the other brother staring in disbelief, before following his younger brother, almost stumbling in his haste to reach his unfortunate victim.
Despite the sour situation the love displayed before him is heartwarming, if there is anything Oberyn understands is the love of family.
"Father! Help!" The same desperate voice of Haedrian, if he can remember right, resonates throughout the field.
That seems to break the spell as the fool of a father snaps out of his stupid expression, just as Oberyn reaches the two children, the hiccups of the smaller boy.
Mace seems to come to himself, with a shake of his head he scrambles out of his shock, screaming, "my boy!"
"Someone get a Maester here, Now!" Oberyn can hear the King shout, but his attention is focused on the gentle muttering of the smallest brother who seems to be cradling his older brother's head.
Gently placing his hand on both boys shoulders, he pulls them both back just as the healers rush in, surrounding the unconscious Heir.
"Get your hands off my boys, haven't you done enough." The snarled words of Mace make his hands flinch away as he straightens to turn towards the fool who spoke, his opinion at the tip of his tongue, fortunately the youngest seems to get fed up.
"Father! Willas, Will he be okay?" Oberyn doesn't know it, but Haedrian saves him from a headache from the potential screaming match, albeit one-sided when the oaf of a lord immediately turns his attention towards consoling his children.
With a hollow victory he leaves them to their own, his heart heavy with guilt for this unnecessary incident, if he didn't see the genuine concern in the stupid man's gaze he'd have thought Mace was trying to kill his own son.
——
Willas groans as he comes to consciousness, he reaches up to rub his eyes, but winces as his shoulder pulls in a painful way making him stop his attempt. Squinting in the soft glow of the candle light, he can tell it's either night time, or evening.
"Willas?" The timid voice of Harry makes him realize he's not alone on his bed, tilting his head towards the voice, and the gentle weight on his left side, which isn't hurting thankfully, looking past he can't help but let a smile form as the figure of Garlan shifts beside Harry before a snore resonates throughout the room, making Harry giggle.
"What?" Willas croaks out, the dryness of his throat makes itself known, but he's too relaxed and sore to try and even think of getting out of bed.
"I'm sorry," Harry says, a hiccup in his voice as he burrows into his goodside.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, his voice more muffled into his chest, the wetness seeping into his shirt as the boy cried into his chest, lifting both his arms he ignores the pain in his left shoulder as he curls both his arms around his precious brother.
Letting a shush noise he presses his mouth on top of Harry's head, taking a deep breath he allows the scent of Harry to soothe his mind and body, "this isn't your fault, I knew this was a possibility when father insisted," his gentle reassurance seems to go to death's ears as the boy pushes off of him with care.
"No, it's not alright, look at you Willy! You're leg," Harry hiccups at the end.
"What about it?" Willas asks looking at his leg which is wrapped and rested, he can still feel his toes, so he counts that as a win.
Harry lets a scowl form as he gently punches Willas's chest, "How can you be so calm? What about becoming a knight?"
"What about it?" He asks about feeling dissociated from the situation as he watches various emotions go through his brother's eyes.
Haedrian is good at keeping a calm face, but his eyes give away his feelings.
His mind finally clicks onto the issue, he lets his head dip so he can meet Harry's gaze with a seriousness, "Harry, you tried your best."
That makes his brother confused before his face contorts with fear as he realizes Willas knows of his secret. Before his wayward brother can panic he gently flicks him in the forhead, "I know I would be dead right now if it wasn't for you, baby brother." He felt his soul slip from his body, and even heard the snap of his neck as he slammed into the ground, then everything went dark.
Reaching up he cups the back of Harry's neck letting a frown form as the boy flinches from his hand, with a firm hold he tugs he guides Harry back onto him, enjoying the soothing pulse he's always felt when near his brother,"You're my brother!" He states firmly, as he starts to rub the boys back willing Harry to relax out of his tenseness and rigidity.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing in this world will ever make me think less of you, you could wish to conquer all of Planetos and I'd support you." He whispers, his voice fading as exhaustion creeps up, he allows himself to relax as Harry relaxes.
"The first time I caught you doing whatever it is you do," cause the tales of magic were never as amazing as what he's seen Harry do, "I couldn't help, but smile, you were speaking to a snake of all things, at first I thought you were just being a silly child, but then I saw the snake obey you. If you told it to do anything." Now he's just rambling for Harry's sake.
"Athena," Harry mumbles into his chest, Willas keeps quiet, but tightens his arms showing he's listening.
"That's her name, well what she allowed me to call her." Willa's can hear the smile in Harry's voice making him smile in return, he meant it when he told Harry he could conquer the world and he'd support him.
But he knows his wayward brother just wants to be free, like a bird, or maybe a dandelion letting the wind guide him to his destiny.
"She sounds lovely, may I ask why you named her-"
"Can you two just shut up? I'm trying to sleep," the grouchy voice of Garlan startled them.
"Harry, you're our brother just because you can sprout fire out your ass doesn't change that, and Willa's would never blame you for something that is out of your control." They both just stare at the dark figure of their brother, who seems to be scowling at them.
Plopping back on the med he lets a huff out, before stating, "now can we go to bed?"
The laugh of Harry rings throughout the room.
'Thank you' Willas silently thanks Garlan, who has that effect on them.
Sometimes he envies Garlan with his ability to just go with the flow, unlike both Harry and him, who tend to over analyze.
A/n:
Sorry, this is more of a filler than anything, but it still has plot purposes, i promise.
Do you care if I skip to the start of the series? Or would you prefer more background on his youth?
Everything will be canon until Harry starts activity effecting the events at the pilot or fist chapter.
I hope I portrayed their brothership well, hahah
I have a brother myself, but I don't think we'd act so cuddly.
I just can't help, but give our Harrykin's some fluff