297 A.C. Highgarden
After spending so long in such a narrow place such as the Hightower Highgarden seems to be a whole village of its own with how large the structure is.
To Harry's surprise, it's still not even the largest of Westeros palaces.
Being located on a broad verdant hill overlooking the Mander, the largest river in the Reach, with a current slower than a snail, makes for some beautiful scenery, especially at sunset standing on the tallest tower overlooking the river as the sun lays to rest.
Peeking from behind the three rings of white glistening stone, whose crenellated curtain walls increase in height the further in you go, is the beautiful structure of Highgarden.
Though Harry's favorite part is between the outer and middle walls, which is famous for the briar labyrinth, which serves to entertain as well as slow invaders.
Standing high and proud the oldest towers shadow the area with their squat and square gaunt gleaming bricks dating as far back as the Age of Heroes.
The newer towers stand just as galiant with their tall and slender frames showing. The sleek round fortifications had been built after the invasion of the Andals.
The Sept, which has rows of stained-glass windows honoring Garth Greenhand and the Seven, the like only to be matched only by the Great Sept of Baelor and the Starry Sept.
Hightower, like all other great houses do have a Godswood, though unlike others they contain three haunting weirwoods known as the Three Singers.
Upon passing the fortifications and entering the walls of Highgarden opens up to an abundance of groves, fountains, and courtyards.
The castle's structure is covered in ivy, grapes, and climbing roses.
Every single area is filled with flowers, singers, pipers, fiddlers and harpers, the aroma's are often hypnotic as one walks throughout the halls, a different scent in every room, almost constantly shifting.
The stables have a fine selection of horseflesh, and there are pleasure boats to sail along the Mander.
There are fields of golden roses that stretch as far as the eye can see.
Fruits that are grown nearby include melons, peaches, and fireplums.
Despite his love for his Grandfather and aunt, Harry can admit he had missed the almost tranquility of Highgarden.
The darkness of the world never seems to touch the vibrancy that is highgarden.
Harry dreads to think of the like of Harrenhall happening to Highgarden.
Slight movement makes him look to his left to look at his siblings who have all snuck into his room, he had arrived eight hours prior after a quick journey through the land of his homes.
They all had made their way into his bed shortly after retiring from their meal.
Things are still tense, on his end, with his father, but he doesn't allow the past to burn any more bridges, silently hoping he'll be able to help Willas.
If the fool thought he could hide his pain from Harry then he was a lot more blind than Harry gave him credit for.
His mother was a comfort he didn't realize he'd missed until he was pulled into her bosom. The stress of everything to come faded away in her arms with the familiar lavender scent she is so fond of wrapping around him in a warm blanket.
"Still up Brother?" The sweet voice of Margaery causes him to shift as he looks down as she lifts her head off his chest, a look of fond mirth in her delicate face. Her voice was quiet not to wake their brothers, "I'm glad you're back." Is all she says before burrowing into his chest.
"I'm glad to be back too, I've missed you…all." He says ending with a yawn that makes her giggle.
"Yeah, yeah we love you Haedrian, now can we all get some damn sleep? Some of us actually have shit to do tomorrow." Garlan growls with no heat as he turns to lug his arm over everyone, getting an ooh from poor Loras who is unfortunate enough to be close to the giant that Garlan is.
The man having grown into his pudgy youth into a man who rival's Robert Baratheon in his youth.
Willas just cracks open his eyes watching everything with a fondness enjoying the fact that he can experience such a moment.
His siblings mean the world to him and he will do anything for them, nothing will come between his siblings and their dreams if he has a say.
Thousands of miles away a certain deity is stirring up the pot.
——-
The north, Winterfell
"My lord's" An old man addresses the two mighty men standing before him observing the courtyard as Lord Stark's boy's practice with Jory Cassel.
It took a while for Death to finally find their master's Dogfather, and it was only out of spikes of magic coming from the North in powerful intervals, keying into the burst the deity finally pinpointed the source to be in winterfell.
All these silly little baby deities seem to make it difficult for even Death to find certain people, the more inclined a person is to one god the harder it is for Death to track.
These sproutling Deities have somehow made a mockery of him by resurrecting, first by creating a being such as the infamous night king.
Don't even get Death started on those cire mage's who don't even understand how much damage tthey are doing to a soul when they 'revive' someone with the light of R'hllor
With a frail shake of their head, Death returns to their current situation as the slightly taller and more sturdy man.
Edward Stark turns as they are addressed along with his youngest brother and arguably the most deadly of the Starks, Sirius.
Sirius's slender frame is more angled towards swift and fast than his brother's quiet strength. Having been born with the famous long face the Starks are known for, fortunately, depending on the opinion, his features are slightly sharper and more refined than Eddard.
Sirius is comparable to the late Brandon Stark in terms of a maiden's fantasy.
"Yes..?" The deep voice of Eddard and the Sharp steel eyes of Sirius would make a lesser man tremble as their intimidating figures stand as a powerful unit.
The Quiet wolf and The Grim in Wolves Clothing.
Of course it's only natural that they be wary they don't know Death or the visage he is wearing.
Though death bets with the right words, they can jog the Mutt's memories.
Seeing Sirius about to draw his blade makes the image of death roll their eyes, the form of an elderly man standing before them, "Relax Mutt, I'm only here because you're chicken shit of a Godson won't contact you and with the shit storm coming I don't want any angsty mellow drama."
They both stare blankly at Death, Sirius opening and closing his mouth, while Eddard seems confused looking at the aforementioned man with questions in his eyes.
"I- what!?" Sirius asks staring at the senile old coot who somehow made it past their guards.
He feels a trickle of hope that has long since extinguished.
He's not tried to think of his pup of the anguish on his face ever since his arrival to this wretched land. Watching the old fart, who is a deity, something his magic instinctively recognized, shifts on the cane they are using.
The Deathly Hallows blaring for all to see atop of the bulbous part of the staff. The short being wore robes of black, darker than the hour of the wolf on a night with no moon.
"Your Harry of course," the being stares like he's not shattering Sirius's world and making him question his sanity.
"My master has missed you so terribly." The being says, the word master making Sirius gulp as the stipulations connect, one's doesn't grow up a black without knowing the famous hollow's
"but as you know he's got a lot of self esteem issues, and I don't wish for him to be distracted with the events that are to come to play." The being mutters, probably not for his ears.
"Death?" He asks hesitantly, giving his brother a quick glance to make sure he's not frothing at the mouth.
Eddard and Benjen know of his magic, but they don't truly know the extent of it, to them it's just something he can do but have rarely seen in action.
Without a wand it's difficult for him to do anything more than his animagus form without exhausting himself from overextension.
"Brother?" Eddard asks with confusion, but as always is loyal and trusting, seeing as Sirius hasn't gone for his blade again means he's not feeling in danger and with this unknown he lets Sirius lead.
"It's fine, Ned."
"Actually if it's true it's better than fine." Sirius gives him a reassuring grin despite the insanity of the situation he knows hopefully he'll get an explanation, but the light in Sirius eyes as the being mentioned a person named Harry is interesting.
Sirius had nightmares throughout his youth and many of them had him waking up mid shouting that very name.
"Oh, yes. The quiet wolf." The crooning voice makes Eddard shiver as the old man before him shifts closer peering up into his gaze the… being's short stature reaching his shoulder.
Their milky eyes burning into his soul as they continue, "Lyanna is a peace, both of you shouldn't weep over her." addressing Sirius as well.
Ignoring the fact that they are shattering and suturing up turmoil inside them both, or relishing in it.
One doesn't know with a deity.
Sirius notices the being seems to be looking beside them as they continue,"She's at peace with her dragon, both wish to thank you for keeping their dragon cub safe and nurtured."
His pup is here…?
Unbeknownst to Sirius and Ned, shades of certain star-crossed lovers stand beside them mournfully watching their child spar with his cousin, and chosen brother Rob.
"I'm not understanding?" Ned has always been logical despite his firm belief in the old gods.
"That's alright." The being says clearly not willing to help elevate his dilemma. Seeing mirth in those milky eyes is unsettling and a great deterrent from asking questions.
"Wait! What do you mean Harry is Here!?" This makes even Eddard look at Sirius as he seems to just realize that.
"Stupid mutt, you can find him amongst the roses." Is all that the being says before fading away.
Now death could have waited for Sirius to be alone, but felt it would be more fun to have the man flounder.
Plus death doesn't want to make it too easy for the mutt to find their precious master, even death likes to prank.
The interrogation Sirius receives is music to the deity's ears.
Death is the ultimate prankster after all.
———
Dorne, Sunspear
The aroma inside the second born prince of Dorne is an erotic almost tantalizing in is density coincides with the sounds of pleasure echoing into the hall. Knocking softy with a desensitized face one has when living in Dorne and becomes accustomed to the vicarious nature of their people.
The maester, Caleotte clears his throat, his bald head shining from fresh wax.
"My prince," The pudgy maester inquired, not willing to enter.
While maester Caleotte doesn't judge the wild ways of his lord's home, he is still a man of oath and upholds them in a manner that has long passed. He can hear a feminine whine of disappointment and the tell sign of someone pulling out, particularly the male groan.
The shuffling intensifies as multiple bodies move around on the other side of the door, only to open and reveal the thinly dressed physique of Oberyn.
Looking past Caleotte can see the forms of his paramour continuing to play with the two whores entertaining the prince.
"Want'ta join?" The purred question makes the plump man flush, retracting his gaze from the foreplay going on as dips his head.
"Pardon me my prince, even if I desire, my oath permits that I shan't." The aged man smiles kindly, alway fond of Oberyn.
"A letter from highgarden has arrived, I thought you would be interested, I apologize for interrupting your…" The maester trails off not knowing how to address the man's promiscuity.
"My fun?" The sex crazed Prince teases the old man, who has worked for their family since his mother was first put upon her seat as princess of dorne.
"Let me see it," Oberyn asks glancing over to Eliarra as he shuts and offers his hand, which Caleotte relents with a breath of relief before bowing and returning to his more important duties.
The only reason he even made the trek was because he knows how important it is to Oberyn to mend to guilt the boy has from that stupid tourney.
"Thank you, Caleotte."
"Though, it's a shame you can't join." The prince sings as he turns down the corridor making him chuckle quietly.
Turning back into his room Oberyn walks back into the spacious area, not bothering to stop his robes as they slip off revealing his bare form. He gives his lover and company a sulery glance.
"I'll be only a moment," he tells them watching with a leer as Eliara straddles the pretty boy they hired.
The groan of his response to his lovers mentrations making his softened length harden.
Turning his attention to the letter, his curiosity overpowering his lust, he gently unfolds the parchment.
Well met my friend,
Haedrian wishes you well, and thanks you for the dornish book you sent to him.
Yes, our dear little Harry has returned, a grown man at that, almost still the shortest of us boy's.
Even Loras is taller than Haedrian, something he's miffed about.
You should see him, Oberyn.
The boy is beautiful, truly. I fear what would happen if you were to meet him.
This makes Oberyn let out a soft laugh.
I digress, the real reason I've written to you is.
Haedrian has spoken of a war brewing.
The start of something that will be spoken about for the ages. He won't specify what is going to happen, but I can take a good guess, any one with a brain could.
I'm sure you know or suspect.
"What a mood killer." He thinks as he contemplates on what is being spoken off. He knows that the true power of the crown is the Lannister's.
The old lion has always been a strong tactician and warlord.
Though with the way the brute, and he's being kind, that is Robert he suspects that even Tywin wouldn't be able to be in the presence of such an obnoxious ass.
Unfortunately my Grandmother is pressed on Margaery becoming a Queen.
So I'm sure our father will be involved before time. I don't write this for an alliance as there is no need for this instant.
Just forewarning you as a dear friend who I value, I'm sure your family will appreciate having some preparation time.
If you haven't stopped since the siege of king's landing.
I hope I don't offend you with my mentioning of Elia.
Pushing away from the letter Oberyn struts over to his beloved pouncing on her and the others nipping along her thigh, intending to rid himself of the dark thoughts by immersing himself in the blissfulness that is sex.
The last words he read ringing in his ear as he sinks into Eliara letting the world fade into pleasure.
A renewed vigor shifting in his soul.
Revenge will be sweet, with Spears and Thornes.
A/n:
And Harry is home! Sorry for the lack sibling fluff, I genuinely want to get to the plot.
So, I know the winterfell scene is a little crack-ish, but I am ashamed to admit I caved to the dark side of the deus ex machina syndrome.
(I'm iffy on this, but didn't want to ruin the flow I started with it.)
I hope I did Oberyn justice. He is a favorite of mine.
Thoughts on Willas and Oberyn coupling?
Idk I sensed some flirtatiousness in book canon. Most likely won't be anything too serious as Willa's needs to marry a lady and Oberyn would never settle.
Do you have any pairing's you'd like to see? Sandor/Sansa, Arya/Gentry, Jon/Margaery
….Joffrey/dagger?