298 A.C. Highgarden
Cold kisses gifted from falling snow greet Harry as he opens his eyes.
The dense forest above him makes for a beautiful kaleidoscope of light as the rays break through their towering ancient trunks encompassing him in all directions.
Hearing the sound of crunching makes him whip his head as the noise disperse the tranquil feeling pulsating from the tree's full of such an old dense magic, magic of the gods.
The sight that greets him is that of an old man. An old man dressed in robes of black, their ends frayed as they drag along the snowy floor. Looking up into Red eyes almost makes him flinch as the after image of Voldemort flashes in front of his eyes, only to fade into the visage of a pale haired frail man with a wine stain decorating the right side of his face.
"Fool, you fool." The soft but strong voice coming out of the pasty pale lips of the strange old guy surprises Harry as the man repeats that damned bird's words albeit less mockingly.
Pulling himself off the ground he hastily wipes the snow off of him, even if it is a dream, habits die hard. He is dismayed to find the man stands taller than him, though isn't surprised, as he is only a whopping five foot seven. Hopefully the few years he has left to grow will allow him to sprout more, but he's not hopeful.
"Birdman, let's cut the small talk and just spit it out." Harry has never been the most respectful person towards asshats with an authority complex and that won't change.
The old Geezer's lip seems to twitch, "Insolent child, you do not realize the horrors that are-"Harry cuts him off, "why wait till now?" He asks, genuinely curious. The old man seems caught off guard, but he continues,"Why wait till it's basically too late? You've been harassing me this whole time, but not once felt it was dire to warn me of this threat?" The disbelief in his voice is evident as he steps closer to the old man, whose stern gaze doesn't affect him as much as he thought red eyes would.
The old man seems to take a deep breath muttering something about 'just like, Sheria.', before rubbing his aged hand down his face, the pale and bruised veins contrasting against the red stain on his face.
The wind howls as the delicate snowfall becomes a furious flurry as the two seem to clash in a silent battle of raw power, the raven being the first to recede,"Such power in such a young soul. I fear that such power will corrupt you," The man says, the fact that there is genuine concern in his voice is the only thing stopping him from lashing out.
"Trust me I didn't ask for this. All I want is my family safe and happy, if you're trying to warn me save your breath." He can't help but quip.
"Haedrian" The stern voice of his grandmother makes him straighten as he watches the approaching procession, looking to his left he can see the impatience on Loras's face as the man waits for his secret not so secret lover, Renly Baratheon.
"Sorry, grandmother, I've got a lot on my mind." He placates, the woman is shrewd, but loves her family. Though anyone with eyes can tell Margaery is her favorite, but being the only girl Harry finds it understandable they'd attach to themselves.
Death know's his mother isn't the best conversationalist when it comes to the intricacies of politics, which will be a must if his grandmother's, and Margaery's wish to be Queen is to be a reality.
Unfortunately with the betrothal between the Starks and the Lannisters, as anyone with a brain could tell, the children weren't of Robert Baratheon's seed.
Renly sent a message explaining how he's seeking asylum with the king being mortally wounded; he felt he'd be safer under the roof of his dear lover's family, than the cold brother that is Stannis, who Harry sparingly met.
The man is beautiful, Harry can admit, the fine features framed by dark brown curls with his deep blue eyes shining with a warmth his other brothers lack. The man is certainly charismatic. Renly reminds him of a more flamboyant Cedric Digory with the looks and the charm.
Harry gives Loras a teasing shove as he shifts with impatience while listening in on the conversation as Renly greets his father. "Well met Lord Mace, I truly thank you for the Hospitality you've graciously gifted to me and my men." Renly says charming his oaf of a father, who merely smiles as he responds, "it's an honor to be trusted with your safety."
"Please, come my men will show your men to their new sleeping chambers, god's know we have too many rooms and not enough people," Mace says before looking towards the steward of the castle commanding the man to prepare a feast in the honor of Lord Renly.
Harry watches as Renly takes the opportunity to ditch his father upon seeing Mace get distracted with planning the grand feast he wants to give Renly, most likely an excuse to eat if Harry can be so callous.
The man gives Grandmother a kiss on the hand before speaking to her in a quiet tone as he leans back from his chaste kiss, the breeze sways throughout the courtyard drawing the floral fragrance that hangs in the air billowing around in a typhoon of scents.
Harry watches with mirth as Margaery flushes at Renly's compliments as he graces her with the same treatment he had with Olenna.
Harry knows with the king's death, which he's not sure Renly even knows of with him being on the road making haste. The capital sent out ravens proclaiming the death of the King and the succession of it, with Joffrey Baratheon being the new King.
'Oh joy' Harry thinks, but keeps his thoughts off his face as the two lover boys finally reunite, though they don't fall into eachothers arms like the maidens in the stories.
Harry hates the bigotry of men.
"Renly," Loras breath's before continuing with a more curt tone, "I'm sorry for your loss, I don't know what I'd do if one of my brothers…" Here he trails off, leaving Harry to rub his shoulder knowing how much his little brother feels, reminding him of his past all self righteous and bullheaded.
"Lord Renly," Willas says, coming towards them after having a few words with their grandmother, "I'm sure you're tired, if loras would be so kind as to show you to your room," his tone knowing, but holding no judgment.
Said couple flushes before Loras scowls at Garlan who lets out a boisterous laugh having heard the comment, his dainty wife, Lady Leonette Fossoway following like a lost puppy clearly still intimidated by the extravagance that the Tyrells offer.
Garlan had stumbled upon her playing her Harp by the river on morrow and since then they've been the maidens fable.
"Ah, just remember brother to not scare the maids away," Garlan shouts as their brother practically drags the potential future king, or claimant if their grandmother has any say.
Speaking of, Harry turns to Willas, "what did grandmother have to say?"
Willas gives him a queer look, before answering "She's insisting that we let father do what he will intend to do once he figures out there is a chance to make Margaery become Queen."
At that Harry gives a quick look towards their ambitious grandmother. While she is a great plotter she hasn't really been in a war, and doesn't understand the stone coldness that he's seen in Stannis through Renly's memories -as if Harry would allow anyone to seduce his family without knowing their intentions- and found more than he had thought the pretty boy would know of when he happens to skim the man's mind of all he knows.
Renly, the former master of law, knows a lot.
It's how he knew for certain that the children of the Queen are of incest.
"I think it's best to just let things run its course, I don't know what will happen if we change anything, and I feel like this is important for something." Harry admits after a second, feeling in his gut that this is a needed path.
He's not any seer or anything but his instincts have usually led him awry when he actually listens.
——
The Feast
"Injuring The Hand in front of everyone" Their father scoffs as he reiterates the story of Lord Stark getting assaulted by the Kingslayer,"like he's some common criminal, I alway knew that man was no good. That honorable Kingslayer." The chins on his face wobbles under the beard Harry suspects.
"I can attest to that," Renly the ever so charismatic man he is indulging into their father like a pro, "I'm just thankful to be out of the capital."
"God's know it's a dangerous place, even more
so for someone who doesn't know the way of the south" Renly muses as he takes a sip of his wine.
Harry can see the byplay of Loras and Renly underneath the table as they play with eachothers feet, though he's not gonna ruin their fun.
"Lord Renly, what are your thoughts on the future King?" Their grandmother inquired, her tone not indicating anything other than curiosity, though anyone in her family can see the calculation in her gaze.
"Joffrey, he's… He's something." Renly admits as he sets his cups down, the two have stopped playing their games at the second Olenna addresses the young lord.
With a solemn look Renly continues, "He isn't good for the realm. He has no reign on his vindictive side, the fact that his mother often feeds into his sadistic tendencies is not even the most disconcerting aspect."
"Yes, I've heard stories of such atrocities, but one can never know with the way people like to gossip." Olenna muses, Harry can see some calculations going through that shrewd brain of hers.
"I wonder what made you flee the Capital so quickly." She ponders out loud, most likely already knowing the answer. Renly gives a wane smile, "yes, well we all know my late brother, may his soul rest, and his wife's marriage isn't exactly one the bard's would sing for romance."
Olenna lets out a wheezed laugh before stating "The Whormonger and The Cunt of a Lion, I'd listen to that one."
Loras looks around, seeing as no one is going to try anything he pushes lightly,"Grandmother, is this really necessary?"
'Big mistake' Harry thinks as their grandmother breaks out a wicked smile, "Oh, hush, I'm just an old lady wishing to gossip,"
"Now Lord Renly," said the man straightens as the crone eyes pierce into him, "be a dear and tell us more about the new Bastard King." Speaking like she isn't speaking of something catastrophic to the fragile peace of the realm.
——
Harry's chambers.
Alone in his room Harry stands naked before the floor length mirror.
The orange flame from the candles decorating his room produces just enough light in the night to see his person in the reflection.
It's still reeling for Harry to see the subtle differences from his previous life and this one.
For instance his dark wet hair clinging to his shoulders.
Harry isn't ashamed to admit he is grateful for the hair he has now, being more silky than wild. No longer the untamable locks courtesy of James, but now the soft silky strands gifted to him by his new mother Alerie, who's light hair dances at the slightest gust.
The only difference being his strands look like they've been dipped in dark ink and not his mothers moonlight-like hair.
He always wondered why he still has his killing curse green eyes when none of his family have the color, though maybe an ancestor of his bore them.
Regardless he is thankful for the connection to his former parents who sacrificed their lives for him.
Lowering his gaze he can't help but feel a pride at his lithe frame that stands at a Healthy 5'7. He had been 5'3 in his previous life, though he supposed malnutrition played a key role in that.
He doesn't have the bulkier frames of his brothers, though no one can be the size of Garlan, and he's not even near the tallest of record.
Who at the moment the Mountain claims that, and Harry wishes he could cut down that rabid man, after hearing what he had done and was allowed to do.
Nor does he have the raw talent that Loras has.
Don't get him wrong he's as proficient with a sword as his body is able, but isn't the ignorant boy he had been to ignore the fact that he isn't and won't ever be a sword master.
Not that that ruins his goals.
As if the entity could read his thoughts, and most likely can, a full body shiver overtakes his body as a cold draft billows around him. He stills as his gaze flicks to the corner of the room through the reflection where a familiar figure seems to be standing.
Spinning on his heels he swiftly tugs on his sleeping robes he had discarded around his person he can't help the flush that creeps up his face, how many times will he meet death naked?
Though that had been Dumbledore the first time.
"It's been a minute." Harry can't help but quip as he fastens the robe securely before moving to his bed, taking note of the appearance that death is partaken.
It seems they've taken the form of their moniker, the stranger, hood and all, though a lot less skeleton-like than his world's perception of death.
"My master, I'm afraid we can't have idle conversation." The being intones with care, making Harry's heart seize in panic as the first thought is he is too late, again.
Had he allowed himself to wallow to long in self pity and the fear of facing Sirius that he missed his chance, he feels his breath freeze as the sudden rush of emotions he pushed down.
"-Master." The power behind their voice stops him from spiraling further down the path as the deity is quick to reassure him.
"Be at peace, your Dogfather is fine," they pause before tilting their head in a contemplative manner, "as as anyone can be in the situation you two find yourselves in."
Thankfully for his dignity Death ignores the racing heart or flushed face of his as he calm's down and continues to speak as Harry rebuilds his mental shields around his emotions.
"Now, I know you have some idea my master," the being states with a knowing look, as they take a quick look at the book that contains the information of all the major lords of Westeros.
When Willas asked him to look into the North on a whim he had found out that there was a person who holds striking similarities to his godfather, he has never denied to ignore things that don't fit his narrative. With a flush Harry refuses to meet the deity's eyes as he speaks, "I know, but he seems so happy," he had taken the opportunity to practice warging long distance to check up on the man, and he saw a lightness and freeness he hasn't ever seen in the man he adore's.
And after so long he realized that they barely knew each other and what is to say of him showing up wouldn't ruin the peace Sirius found, "I couldn't ruin that." He says with certainty.
"I had thought being raised as a lord would break you out of your self deprecation master, but I see now that you are still suffering from the past."
"I'm sorry to say that I already spoken to the man," the deity hold their hand up before Harry can speak up with Indigency, "now my master, you've have to understand that there isn't any time and while I don't regret it allowing it, you've spent too long procrastinating. It's time to be the master of death, and to do that you will need to let go of what holds you down, because this enemy won't wait for you like Voldemort did."
"Plus, I know you, you will regret not helping him knowing you could do something, something to help the Starks, your godfather's family."
"His family?"
"The Hand of the King is his brother." The deity reminds him, Harry meant it when he said he blocked everything about Sirius, now feeling silly for his overreaction.
"Oh." is all he says.
He has a lot to make up for, doesn't he?
He just prays Sirus doesn't prank him too hard.
A/n:
Apologies for such a long wait, I had/have wisdom teeth issues right now, they were irritated for the last week and I didn't have any energy or concentration to be able to write anything.
I hope it's not an unpleasant timeskip.
I also apologize that a lot of things seem to happen 'offscreen, I don't know if it adds to the mystery or cheapens the story.
I'll stop rambling.
I feel Harry is a stubborn person and combined with his low self esteem, I feel his mind would create a very delusional outlook, and it's shown that he prone to ignoring certain things when he is of the mind to.
I blame the pain medication I'm on for the quality of this chapter, so I apologize.