Lord Harry Peverell, Lord of Harrenhal and the Trident,Master of the Crownlands
Year 7: Day 258 - 297 AC
It was a sad day for the Realm as Harry stood in the Great Sept of Baelor, paying his respects. The raven had come from King's Landing a week ago, informing him of the old man's death and that the successor would soon be named. To be honest, it was no big loss to Harry, the man had outlived his usefulness and it was time for change.
There were rumors of all sorts abounding about his death. Assassinated in the night? Poisoned by his enemies? Knocked down a flight of stairs? Killed by a boar? While Harry did enjoy a good conspiracy theory, his favorite being JFK was killed by the CIA and there was a second shooter, he needed to be sure what the actual cause was. Problem would be the fact that this was a public viewing and if he used a spell, the body would glow… Not ideal to say the least.
The real question was who? The enemies that wished for the man's death were numerous, but Harry had an idea. Petyr Baelish had been missing for a while and perhaps he wished for revenge against the Realm? A plausible theory but not one that could be proven until the man surfaces. Perhaps the Lannisters? They would gain by his death...
"He was a good friend." someone said behind Harry, breaking him out of his musing, "He will be missed." Harry turned and saw the lumbering figure of King Robert making his way to the Riverlord.
"What happened to him?" Harry asked, turning back.
"Fever in the night. Grand Master Pycelle said that the sickness burned right through him." Robert said, taking up a position next to Harry. It was surprising to Harry though that Robert seemed to be unaccompanied by anyone. A rare sight.
"Or poison, your Grace." Harry responded, looking seriously at the King.
"Do you truly suspect poison? I know of no one who would need Jon dead. Especially a woman who would use poison."
Harry chuckled, "I can think of several people capable of this." Robert didn't seem too convinced, letting the comment rest. He didn't believe there was any foul play since Pycelle had reported back it was a sickness, "Who will you name to replace him as Hand?"
Robert stood there for a moment, staring at the rocks painted with eyes that were laid on Jon's face. "I ride for Winterfell in four days. Ned Stark will be Hand."
"Lord Stark is a diligent and astute governor, I'm sure he would run the Realm well, your Grace." Harry responded, looking distantly at the face of Lord Arryn, "But, if I may." Harry asked, looking at the King for leave to continue to which the King assented, "I would suggest one with a more southern mind for politics. One who could balance out the Lannisters in your court."
"Ned is my brother in all but name. I could see no one else who would be as loyal. He runs the North well." Robert responded, his mind clear on the subject, "But tell me Peverell, who would you name if you were King?"
Harry listened to the King, not disagreeing about Lord Stark, "I fear, if I were King your Grace, my court would not be the same as yours."
Robert just snorted and chuckled, "Oh yeah? How so? The Fat King's court not to your liking?"
Harry laughed for a second as well, "My wife is not a Lannister, your Grace. I would name Tywin Hand and dismiss his son from the Kingsguard." For a second, Robert seemed surprised.
"You would name Tywin Hand of the King?"
"Of course, he ran the Kingdoms well under The Mad King. I would require someone who can run all Seven Kingdoms with experience." Harry responded, "But, if I was literally you, I would name Prince Doran of Dorne or myself." Robert began to huff, and he looked like he was going to vehemently oppose before Harry continued, "Hold on, let me explain."
Robert just looked like he had gone from talking to an intelligent man to talking to an idiot, "Oh please, Lord Peverell, enlighten me about the values of Dorne. Traitors who would rather see me dead."
"Not you, your Grace. Tywin Lannister. The Dornish are as much snakes as the Lannisters and would actively work against them. They know how the politics of the South work, unlike Lord Stark. Prince Doran runs his Kingdom well."
"I see your point; however, would they not try to get revenge against my wife or children?" Robert asked, obviously not seriously considering Harry's point.
"I would doubt it, Prince Doran would ensure that it does not escalate to that."
Robert just chuckled, "Will you remain as Master of the Crownlands, Peverell?"
"I would remain if your Grace wishes it. I find the Crownlords easy to manage." Harry chuckled, leaving the Hand of the King discussion in the past.
"Better than the Freys?" Robert laughed heartily, slapping Harry on his back.
"The Freys require much... attention." Harry smirked, "But no major problem. They are predictable."
"You sound like a Lannister... Gods, Tywin schemes too much, always looking out for his family."
"Lord Lannister's power comes from the fear of his bannermen, nothing more." Harry responded seriously, "Tywin doesn't scare me."
"He told me once, 'better to be feared than loved'." The King said, putting his hand on the deceased man's shoulder, "Tywin embodies that phrase."
"Indeed, your Grace. But loyalty? That comes from trust." Harry replied, motioning towards the blonde woman who had just entered the Sept. "No loyalty there, your Grace." The King just snorted as Harry once again smirked. When Cersei Baratheon reached the two of them, Harry politely greeted her and excused himself. Avoiding the soon to come fight between the royal couple.
Outside, Neville stood with several more of Harry's Wizarding guards, conversing about really nothing when Harry approached.
"Lord Stark. He will be the new Hand of the King." Harry said as Neville left his previous conversation and began walking towards the gates of the Red Keep to return to Harrenhal with him.
"It will take two months for Lord Stark to arrive if he were to leave today." Neville responded.
"I suspect the King will ask him in person, so the man has no chance to say no." Neville raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"He's going to go to the North and be gone for four months on the road?" Neville asked and Harry simply nodded, "Who is to run the Kingdom? Renly? You?"
Harry smiled but shook his head, "Not me, I hope. Renly couldn't mess up anything that bad in four months anyway." Neville just shrugged.
"You'd be surprised by his stupidity."
"I'm surprised by incompetence every day." Harry said, pointedly looking at his friend.
"Hey! Don't look at me like that! Nobody told me that we were going to build a road between Harrenhal and Harry's Hollow, so I didn't."
"Yeah, and when it rains all of the wagons get stuck."
"Well luckily I can just get the townsfolk to transfigure the dirt into stone. Makes building the road easier." Neville said as they neared the Inn where they were staying. Harry motioned for his guards to head inside to gather their things while the two stood outside. They stood in silence for a moment before Harry spoke.
"This town smells like shite."
"Yeah. Matches the King's smell." Neville responded.
"Nah, the King smells like booze constantly. If anything, King's Landing reminds me of Varys." Harry said, looking down the road at the townsfolk who were going about their day.
"How's that?" Neville questioned, "I've never spoken to the guy."
"I don't know, it may not be the best comparison, but King's Landing is seen by many as a shining jewel of the Seven Kingdoms. The powerful seat of government. Varys is similar, seen as a powerful and important piece of the government. But under that reputation is the ugly underbelly of crime, murder, lies... Both Varys and King's Landing deal in those things..."
"Maybe..."
"I think that Lord Arryn was killed by poison or something similar. I didn't get a clear chance to cast a spell on him to find out though." Harry responded as they entered the manor that they had been staying at. It was the 'Royal Annex', sort of like a guest house in the city for visiting dignitaries.
"We knew that already. It was obvious that the man wasn't nearly old enough to die from an old person sickness." Neville said as they took a seat in the front room, watching their guards begin taking their stuff from the house and getting their convoy ready to leave.
"So, the secret of Roberts children being illegitimate remains hidden." Harry responded as the Riverlands guards began hauling out their bags to put on the horses.
"What are we to do with them when the time comes?" Neville asked, paging through his satchel looking for a document he forgot to get Harry to sign.
"If they don't die in the fighting?" Harry asked, straight faced, "Bash their heads against the wall and toss them into the Bay."
"Robert's bastards?" Neville asked, producing the page, sliding it over to Harry who signed it with a flick of his wand, sealing his magical signature onto the paper.
"Same difference. No loose ends."
Their conversation ended when the captain of his guards addressed Harry as the last bag was placed on their horses, "Ready to go, mi Lord. Bags aren't as organized as I would have liked, but you wished to get on the way soon."
Harry nodded at the man, "Thank you, Ser Gregory, I am sure our wives can sort through them well enough."
"Of course, mi Lord." He said as he clicked his heels and saluted before going to his horse. Harry shot Neville a look of 'we'll talk about that later' as they walked out the residence. They soon were on the move and exiting the city.
Neville had been quiet for a while as he processed the new development, riding next to Harry, "Who do you think killed Lord Arryn?"
"I'm not sure. I would guess Petyr Baelish or Cersei. But that is just speculation. I'll have Susan make some inquiries and see if she can sniff something out." Harry said, considering his options.
"Would they dare go after us?" Neville asked, "They don't know of our protections. Whomever it was may try to have us poisoned like Arryn."
"If it was Petyr Baelish, he believes one thing, that he is cleverer than any opponent he might be facing. He is arrogant to the extreme with his intelligence and while we may have thwarted him regarding Master of Coin, he is vengeful and not without resources. I am sure he will come for us even if he didn't kill Lord Arryn." Harry replied seriously.
"Perhaps we should double the Wizarding guard on the children and the Keep?"
"A prudent measure. They are loyal and not swayed by gold. I'll see to it when we arrive back at Harrenhal." Harry paused for a moment, "What was the name of that assassin we used in Britain a lot during our reign? Went by some code name that was lame as hell."
Neville scrunched his eyebrows in thought before laughing, "It was Luna. Raven was her code name. Based off the house she was in Hogwarts and that's it. She didn't even dress at all similar to a Raven. Truly, she stuck out like a sore thumb but, by Merlin, she was deadly. Poisons, explosives, runes. Everything besides direct wand confrontation she did."
"What ever happened to her? Did she come through the veil with the rest of the supporters?"
Neville smirked and nodded, "Yes, apparently she had been one of the last to be captured but one of the first to be pushed through. Shall I give her a new mission?"
"I believe it is time to just nip the Petyr Baelish problem."
Ser Neville Longbottom, Steward of Harrenhal
Year 7: Day 285 - 297 AC
It had been about a week since their return to Harrenhal following the Hands passing. Neville was in his office, attending to important matters of the Riverlands when he heard three light knocks at his door.
"Enter." he commanded, not even looking up from his work.
"Hello Neville Longbottom." A voice called out as the door squeaked open, "You asked for my help?"
Neville smiled and set down his work, "Luna, it's great to see you. Please come in." Motioned for her to make her way to his desk, "Take a seat, we have some items to discuss."
"Not a social visit?" The blonde asked, "I did enjoy our talks in Britain."
Neville smiled at the young woman, "Perhaps another time for in depth conversation… How are you enjoying your time in Harry's Hallow?"
Luna smiled deeply, "I am really loving what we are doing in Harry's Hallow. It is rewarding to actually help people who care about you build something for the betterment of all wizards."
"Astoria told me that you are teaching at Hogwarts occasionally?"
"I am! I am teaching a survival training class on Fridays. Astoria has made it mandatory for the kids since we live in a medieval country now." Luna responded, pulling the book she had on wizarding survival training from her bag.
"That's great, Luna. Truly…" Neville smiled sincerely at his friend, "We do have a mission for you based on your previous occupation." Luna just motioned for him to continue. Neville stood from his desk and made his way to a basin with a silver liquid inside. He tapped the basin and a holographic image of a man popped into existence. "Petyr Baelish. Former Master of Coin and suspected murderer of Lord Hand John Arryn."
Luna pulled out a notebook and began jotting down notes, "Last Location?"
"Suspected King's Landing. Our analysis has shown that Baelish has a habit of making sure he can see the scheme being completed." Neville said, looking at the man.
"Danger to me or others?"
"Minimal. He is not marshal and would likely flee if confronted."
"Bounty?" Luna asked, raising one of her eyebrows.
Neville smirked, "You want to continue living in or near Harry's Hollow?"
Luna looked at him seriously, "Of course." Staring at if it was the most apparent thing in the world.
"6 acres outside town and with additional lumber and house construction rations."
"On top of the rations I already have?" Luna asked.
"Well, you would lose your lot in town but yes, additional to what you already have."
"I want a basement." Luna replied, crossing her arms and Neville leaned back in his chair.
"We don't have concrete to build you a basement with, Luna."
"I'll settle for left over stone from Hogwarts. I'll transfigure it into a foundation." Luna said, smiling.
"Max square foot of 3,000."
Luna stood and smiled broadly, "Deal!" They shook hands on their arrangement and Luna left Neville's office. After Luna left, Neville chuckled to himself. What would Petyr Baelish think about his assassination paid for by lumber? Ha.
Luna Lovegood, "Raven" – Three weeks later
Pentos
Status Update to Lord Longbottom
I have tracked Petyr Baelish to Pentos in Essos. It appears that his desire to consolidate or regain power in Westeros has failed and has been driven from our land. However, he remained a cunning man, one not easily confused or tracked.
He seems to have connected with a Magister of Pentos, Illario Mopatis (unclear on spelling), who seems to be keen on using him for some plot. I suspect it has something to do with Westeros, but I have yet to make entrance into his mansion. While disillusionment would be effective in evading the guards, I would not be able to adequately gather additional information on their potential plots.
Please advise on actions forward. Continue with primary contract?
Neville Longbottom
Reply to Raven
Plot intelligence unneeded. Continue with contract on Petyr Baelish. Mopatis expendable and encouraged. Additional compensation negotiable.
Petyr Baelish, Former Master of Coin
Pentos
The fire crackled and lit up the room as Petyr laid in his borrowed bed. Truly, Magister was a giving man but also seemed to be easily fooled. Petyr had used his knowledge of the Targaryen girl to his advantage and told him that he would help her regain the Iron Throne. In reality, he was looking for a way to steal the man's gold and escape to Volantis or somewhere.
He truly couldn't sleep, as if something in him was keeping him awake. He had this feeling sometimes while he was in King's Landing but not since he had arrived in Pentos. Every once in a while, he would scan the room, looking for anything that changed. Luckily, he had both a creaky door and window, so there would be no surprises.
He laid there for what felt like hours as he contemplated his plans. Figuring out new ideas and angles. Suddenly, he heard the click of his door latch open and his door began to creak open. He grabbed his Valyrian steel dagger quietly and prepared to strike.
As he did this, he was relieved to see a woman caring a tray of food and beverages enter. Petyr set down his knife as the young woman greeting him, "Good morning, Lord Baelish. Magister Mopatis sends his greetings." She was a beautiful woman in Petyr's eyes, would make a good whore. Her silver blonde hair would likely be a commodity in Essos. But he shoved those thoughts from his head for a moment.
"Thank you dear, tell me? How is the Magister this morning?" Petyr responded, swinging his legs off the bed, preparing to eat.
"He is good, your Lordship. He had a wonderful breakfast and invited you to take part in your room."
"Of course, wouldn't want to disappoint the Magister, do we?" The young woman blushed at his compliment and placed the food down on his bed. He gazed at the array of fruits and breakfast items before him, truly a breakfast fit for a king. Soon... He began to eat as the servant girl curtsied and removed herself from the room.
As he ate and gazed out the window towards the sea, he got a tickle in his throat. He coughed once and that seemed to take care of it for a moment before it returned. He coughed a couple more times and took a swig of his morning beverage to attempt to wash down whatever was causing it with no luck. As he continued coughing, he felt his lungs and throat begin to clench up.
Petyr's eyes widened and he struggled up from his bed, knocking the obviously poisoned food onto the ground, and attempted to reach his personal chest. He made it a few steps before he fell to the ground. He could feel The Strangler killing him. He began crawling towards his personal chest but it was too late. He couldn't breathe any longer...
Ten minutes later, the same servant entered the room and stared at the blue faced man. His eyes were open, gazing at the ceiling, but they showed agony before death. Luna pulled out her wand and cast a spell, putting the room in order while also shrinking the now dead man into a small action figure size. She placed him in her pocket before leaving the room.
As Luna walked down the hallway towards the main hall, she stepped over several people who were obviously deceased. Each with purple faces and blood leaking from their eyes. When she entered the hall, she saw Magister Mopatis slumped over on his table, however he lacked the blue face of most. Instead, he had a knife sticking out from his neck.
She approached the man and shrunk him just like she has done to Baelish and put him in her pocket. After she was done, she took one last gaze at the opulent manse before casting incendio, causing the tapestries to go up in flames.
"Time to leave." Luna said, smirking at her handiwork. She waltzed down the entrance way, casting the flames spell on everything that would burn causing the flames to spread quickly. As she exited the manor, it was mostly engulfed in fire. She admired it for a moment, the flames reflecting off her eyes, before she walked out the front gate and apparated away.
Lord Harry Peverell, Lord of Harrenhal and the Trident,Master of the Crownlands
Year 7: Day 326 - 297 AC
Neville told me today that Luna had killed both Petyr Baelish and Illario(?) Mopatis, some Mayor(?) of Pentos. I really don't care to learn anything about that guy, but I'm glad Baelish is dead. He would be a complication for me if he was able to join the Targaryen girl.
I had a couple of the Wizard's Guard return the bodies to the manse. I didn't see any reason to keep them here. They crucified them and carved the Deathly Hallows into their chests, hopefully to scare off anyone who would challenge us. We'll see if that will actually work.
Information on the Targaryen girl has been sparse since we lost our spy in Jorah Mormont. I did hear that she was beside herself, feeling alone or some shit. Sad. Anyway, it appears that something had happened to her husband? Dead maybe? Whatever. Maybe I can bribe Luna to kill her too.
I had the most interesting encounter with my sister-in-law last night. You see, it was a quiet evening in Harrenhal as I was walking through the castle grounds alone, deep in thought. The castle was ever so still, which surprised me due to the city being so large. However, the keep's thick and high walls generally kept out the late-night sounds of the citizenry, so I guess it made sense.
As I made my way to the top of the walls and looked over the ramparts, I felt a solid hand grab his shoulder, jostling me from my thoughts. I turned around to see Daphne Greengrass in her nightgown, smiling at me.
"Harry, it's late. Shouldn't you be in bed?" she had asked me as she seemed to stare into my eyes. Her eyes perfectly match Astoria's, which always intrigued me since they weren't twins or anything. Anyway, it was kind of uncomfortable, so I looked back towards the city.
"Couldn't sleep. The weight of a crown is heavy. " I replied, which caused Daphne to raise an eyebrow and smirk.
"Luckily, your Grace, a crown has yet to adorn your head." She responded, forcing me to let out a small chuckle.
"A figure of speech, my Lady." I replied. Now, this is the weirder part. As I stood there, Daphne snaked her left arm around my waist, and she leaned her head on my shoulder. I just looked at her in surprise.
"Sorry, Harry. It's a bit cool out for only a nighty." I just chuckled and pulled off my cloak and handed it to her. To be honest, I really have no idea what she was doing.
"Indeed. You appear underdressed for outside." Daphne just shrugged as she applied my cloak over her dress, but still pushing her side against mine.
After that we spoke of the trivial things bothering me. The Crownlands Lords were becoming needy, which will require a firmer hand. Lord Tywin wishes to discuss a joint venture mining in our mountains, something that confused me...
Then, at the end of the conversation, Daphne asked me about studying the Veil of Death in Harry's Hollow. She had done some unsanctioned research on it from a distance and had discovered something interesting. It didn't appear to produce a magical signature. Like there was no magic powering it yet it appeared to have runes carved into it. She wished to research and discover how it works.
I was okay with it. The arrivals had slowed to a trickle and, as long as it didn't get broken, I wasn't concerned. What concerned me was how, after I said yes, she took my hand and squeezed it quickly before letting go and curtsying. I don't know how to take these acts... I think I'll just choose not to see them and hope it goes away and/or stops.
Moving on. I received a message from one of Susan's spies in Winterfell this morning which also casts a grim shadow. One of the Stark boys, Brandon, fell from one of their towers while climbing. He's alive, but he is currently in a coma. The spy also reported that it was likely no accident. The day was calm with little wind and Brandon had climbed the same tower many times before. The rocks were coarse, and it had not rained in days. So, dry rocks. Pushed? But for what reason?
I will wait for the official raven to find its way to me, but I am concerned. An assassination attempt against the Stark family is highly dangerous, especially in the North. It also doesn't bode well that the King and his retinue are staying there. The likely culprit is within that group. I believe I will visit the boy soon, find out if he remembers anything? Even if he has yet to wake, I could look through the last memories to see what happened.
Also, Hedwig is large enough for me to ride...
Lord Harry Peverell, Lord of Harrenhal and the Trident
Year 7: Day 327 - 297 AC
A dragon's roar bellowed across Harry's Hollow as Harry approached Hedwig the Dragon. While the dragon was bond to him as a sort of quasi-familiar, Dragons were still a dangerous animal to attempt to ride. Harry still had to prove himself worthy.
"Nighean furasta, furasta. Tha thu eòlach orm." Harry said, approaching the dragon with one hand raised in a placating manner while his family and the Wizarding populous watched with trepidation.
Hedwig seemed to puff herself up, arching her back and snarling at the approaching man. She thumped her tail against the ground and let out another roar. She was nearly as big as a military ship, perhaps a Bireme? Harry really wasn't the best at comparisons.
Harry repeated his words and kept inching towards her. She continued roaring and at one-point yellow fire began to billow up in her throat, but Harry was finally able to up onto her back. She shuttered and immediately took flight, leaving a populous that was celebrating their Lords achievement.
It seemed Hedwig fought him at first, but soon she accepted his presence, and they flew above the clouds. This, luckily, hid her large size and shadow, however if someone was looking from the group, they might catch a glimpse.
They flew for what felt like hours until the air turned colder, and the high walls of Winterfell appeared in the distance. While Harry had been there before, it's always a different sightseeing something from the air. Even with Hedwig's small size compared to the Targaryen Invasion's dragons, Harry still thought they would be able to force their surrender.
Harry set Hedwig down far enough away from Winterfell that she wouldn't get discovered and slowly made his way to the castle. It only took a moment as he had apparated into Winter town and just walked to the main gate. A quick confundus charm and he was past the gate and into the castle proper.
As Harry walked through Winterfell, he observed a castle, obviously playing host to a King. The guards from House Baratheon and Lannister were ever present and the Stark guards seemed to be on high alert. However, a low powered notice-me-not charm left him to mind to his business. As he neared the Keep itself, he spied on the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, seemingly berating his nephew to tell the Starks he would pray for Bran to heal. It appeared that the boy didn't really care too.
Harry donned his cloak as he entered the keep, preferring the security of it to his charm work. He walked through the building, passing numerous guards as he approached his target's room. The guard standing outside the room was attentive, however a confundus charm caused the young man to walk off and disregard his orders to guard the room. Harry quietly pushed open the door, revealing a large dog at the foot of Bran's bed.
As Harry entered, under his cloak, the dog looked up at him and growled. He quickly hit the animal with a sleeping charm and stalked to the young boy's side.
Harry slowly raised his wand to the boy's head and whispered...