Chapter 2
Author's Note: Someone asked why 'Alive Rhaegar' alt timeline and I thought it was a good question. No, it's not because I hate Rhaegar and this is a hate fic aimed to bash him. It's just that the canon timeline is too easy for a wizard to excel in. Robert Bobby B is a huge friend of Ned Stark so that alone lets Harry do as he likes.
By the time of the WOT5K, Harry can easily use the division to stomp everyone. It's a reason why most Harry crossover fics are abandoned around the same time, there's not much else to do once a certain point is reached. With Targaryens going strong means the kingdom is more united and a harder challenge for the MC. There's actual pushback instead of a drunk king saying yes to everything the north asks for until he eventually gets boar diffed. Sorry if this chapter is grammatically challenged, I did it on no sleep so bite me.
It sickened him at times to feel pining or regret for a life that never was. Harry prided himself on being independent and a source of strength for those that flocked to him. Growing up, Harry knew the love of his parents although not for long. The rise of Tom Riddle and the subsequent war took his family from him.
Dumbledore's useless platitudes, his secrets, and his sickening aversion to doing what needed to be done. With no mentor, Harry found himself walking in the footsteps of those that came before him. The darkness that Grindelwald, Voldemort, and even Dumbledore once sought strength in also found a desperate orphan.
A time where he longed for nothing but power, as Harry didn't believe love was going to beat Voldemort. With the fulfillment of the prophecy, the unification of the deathly hallows, and a relentless hunger to change the world left no room for this dream.
Harry truly believed he made peace with the loss of his loved ones. Yet he continued to catch himself thinking of his parents, the marauders, and yes, even Dumbledore. Harry knew this world held no love for these ideals or notions of sentimentality. Here, there was only a broken world with a society who required change. Yet, Harry didn't complain about the loneliness or his newfound duty, it all somehow felt appropriate.
Filled with nihilistic mirth, he realized his mind was doing it again. He snapped out of his thoughts with the sounds of shuffling coming closer and closer.
"Are you well?" A phantom in a cloak asked. The translucent visage of a man wearing windsor glasses glowed softly in Harry's peripheral vision.
"Yes, I was only thinking about the amount of work there is to do. Think nothing of it." Harry's mind was still on the train of thought he was on seconds ago.
"The load you bear is tremendous, I couldn't fathom placing myself in your shoes. I only hope we are able to lessen the burden on your shoulders. In any meaningful way." The phantom said.
"Thank you, Edmund. You have all been a great deal of help to me. My knights of the round table… you know, I think that is a very good idea. King Arthur had one so why can't I? Anyways, I couldn't have done all this without you and the others helping me." Harry took the parchment the phantom held in his hand.
"If I'm being honest, my lord. This all continues to feel quite surreal to me. I suppose I should feel grateful that a man from the motherland is here to greet me. How was Great Britain doing before you came here?" Edmund asked, much like he said, his face was locked in a far away dreamy look. Harry didn't know if it was because he was dead or if he really missed home so much.
Edmund Harker was a Victorian era scholar of Cambridge, a prestigious muggle school even during Harry's time. Harry figured he could give the spirits he summoned a brief explanation, it would make their time together a lot less awkward and possibly troublesome. Unfortunately, the spirits he summoned were all bright minds from their respective times and therefore very curious. Especially when it came to the fates of their homelands or to the futures of their families and work. Thankfully, they soon figured out each of them held the answer to someone else's questions.
"Uh, it was all going swell I tell you. Very different world to the one you lived in, I have to say. Long live the Queen!" Harry said with a small laugh, struggling to remember any noteworthy muggle jokes or customs.
"Long live the Queen indeed. Oh I'm sure it was. You did say it was a few centuries between our times." Edmund gained his faraway look once more. To Edmund, the hidden workshop was no match for his cozy office in Cambridge or its majestic halls, but the thrill of coming back from the afterlife to serve a wizard was definitely on its own level. In a whole other world no less, he tried not to think about it too much or else he feared his entire being would come apart.
"I'd love to chat all day long about our homeland but I have to go. Make sure not to tell any of the others about our chats, I already have a hard time getting certain colleagues of yours to focus on their tasks." Edmund nodded, his face shifted to one of deadly seriousness.
Harry didn't allow them to travel outside of the derelict room he fashioned into a workshop part laboratory. The crypts were enormous, serving as the resting place for several Stark kings or post-conquest Lords. However, the crypts themselves did eventually end, except for a mysterious passageway he found hiding behind a cave-in.
Wanting to know if it was a section lost to time, perhaps holding long forgotten Stark history along with important answers… Harry instead found what he could only describe as a never-ending chasm. Using spells, setting up wards, and going so far as to explore them himself proved fruitless. He was certain these must have been the caves mentioned in the legend of Gorne. Yet, those texts were the only mention or reference to the caves.
'Did they not try and explore them?' Feeling overwhelmed, Harry sealed the entrance with a massive boulder he modified with transfiguration and a bit of alchemy, turning it into a solid ball of tungsten. Indulging his curiosity for a moment, he wondered if a giant could push it aside. That led to a second question of what a giant would be doing so far beneath the surface.
Due to their large size, Harry was convinced they wouldn't be able to meet the required caloric intake to survive on whatever other creatures inhabited these caverns. 'Now a dragon on the other hand, could surely push the boulder and also feed a giant.' Silly thoughts like these kept him sane when alone with his mind.
Ignoring the potential hazard of the secret passageway into Winterfell, Harry found the isolated area of the crypts as a perfect place for a lab away from prying eyes. Even with the considerable effort he allocated towards rooting out the spies from the south, there was no way he could individually check the minds of every living person in the city and castle by himself.
The group wore cloaks on the small off chance they were spotted by someone like uncle Ned or his family. The redirection and notice me not spells were not infallible and they could suffer a breach by someone who was motivated enough to push on. The crypts were off limits to everyone but the Starks so that was a small relief. Placing an extra set of guards at the entrance would deter any unwanted trespassers.
Due to the secrecy that shrouded them, the group ironically began to call themselves the Unspeakables. Their work and existence was unspeakable therefore the spirits found it fitting. Harry laughed himself silly when heard of the name but decided not to let them in on what was now his little inside joke.
Shuffling through some journals, he grouped them together and handed them to Edmund. "Here, make sure Sina reads through these. Tell him I want the usual analysis with a focus on the local flora. For the last two books, I want you to look through those and see if it's possible with the resources we have on hand. I'll be going away for a few days, I don't expect you to finish but all I ask is that you try your best."
Edmund's disembodied existence became temporarily corporeal as he grabbed the books. "I will see to it that this is done. You can count on us." With no further words, Harry apparated away.
Castle Black, The Wall 297 AC
A lone figure walked up a faded path covered in heavy snow, moving towards a settlement situated right on the base of the mythical wall. Harry heard stories of the place, one of the few remaining outposts of the Night's Watch. Staring in confusion, Harry wondered if a breeze carried off the castle as there wasn't one in sight.
Regardless, the wall never failed to take his breath away and Harry truly believed it made up for the hellish cold. Harry knew there was definitely magic involved in its construction. Not just because its continued existence blatantly defied the laws of physics but because he could see the precise elemental manipulation even without the use of mage sight or any other magical detection method.
The Night's Watch was clearly aware of his presence—evident from the two men in black making their way toward him. Harry respected their vigilance, the black brothers clearly weren't negligent in their duties. He supposed it had to be this way or suffer at the hands of wildlings.
"Who goes there?" One of the men shouted, both holding swords at the ready and a torch in the other.
"I am here for a meeting with the Lord Commander. I told him I'd be coming earlier this week. I apologize that it's so late at night but the life of a lord paramount is a busy one." The cold was not to be underestimated, pulling back his hood exposed his face to the near absolute zero weather. Harry swore it wasn't this cold yesterday, he reasoned it must be due to his proximity to the wall and the far north.
"Lord Stark? If you are who you say you are then where are your men? Where is your horse? You expect us to believe you came here walking all the way from Winterfell?" The disbelief in his voice was palpable.
"It does not matter, I don't suppose you two enjoy standing out in this cold, experience be damned. And I seriously doubt a wildling would try and imitate me on the off chance that he could gain entry to a place full of professional wildling hunters. So why don't we head inside and you take me to Jeor Mormont." The two men stood silent for a moment but relented soon enough after a particularly harsh wind swept by.
The settlement of Castle Black was a collection of buildings like timber keeps, stone towers, stables, a mess hall, and even a small sept. 'This is probably as far north as the faith comes.' Although it was night, the watch never ended and Harry could see the small lift going up the wall with a group of men inside. Entering the main keep, Harry was greeted to the sight of a few brothers of the Night's watch resting around a large fireplace.
Deciding to perform his daily act of kindness, Harry cast a few warming charms on the men and the keep itself. The two black brothers spoke to their sworn brothers until they came to an agreement. "Those stairs lead up to the Lord Commander's tower, make sure to knock before entering." Harry thanked them and walked up the circle stone stairs leading upwards. Standing outside the large wooden door, Harry could hear two people speaking in hushed tones. Not one to eavesdrop, he knocked and walked in after obtaining permission.
"Lord Stark, so you have decided to come after all! The night is unforgiving as you have no doubt felt first hand." Lord Mormont's deep voice resonated throughout the room. Sitting on one of the two chairs was an old maester with cloudy eyes holding a tint of purple. 'A Targaryen? I did hear of one serving at the wall.'
"Apologies, Lord Commander. I was distracted by other matters and soon found myself swarmed trying to deal with them all. I know a man of your station will surely understand. Who might you be?" Shaking the Lord Commander's hand, Harry stretched one out for the maester as well.
"Nothing but an old man who serves the watch in the few days he has left. I am Maester Aemon, honored to finally meet you, Lord Stark." Harry shook his hand and felt a small shock travel up his arm. 'Did he really try to read my palm? This old man has a few tricks up those grey sleeves.' Harry's eyes crinkled in response to the maester's sheepish expression.
"Nonsense, Aemon. You are perhaps the greatest among this filthy band of murderers, thieves, and rapists. Including me." Lord Commander Mormont practically shouted. A boisterous man if there ever was one.
"No lies were said, Maester Aemon. You certainly are a special one, very special indeed." Harry added on with a grin. The old man laughed, he nodded respectfully and withdrew his hand awkwardly.
"I trust your men have settled in for the night. I was hoping to welcome you personally but I did not believe you'd be coming." Mormont said while pouring both men a cup of wine.
"Thank you, Lord Commander." Harry took a sip of the wine and held back the urge to vomit the sewage water out. 'What the hell is this?' He vanished the remaining wine and held the cup in his hand to stop the man from refilling his cup. "I actually decided to make the trip by myself. I dislike escorts, they are far too slow and wearisome for my liking."
Both men leaned back in shock. "Enough of the jests, Lord Stark. If I go down there, you're saying I won't find your men warming up by the fire?" Harry snickered at the man's unbelieving expression.
"Perhaps the rumors of the young lord hold more truth than we initially believed." Maester Aemon said after regaining his composure.
"What? Those tales of magic and the blessings from the old gods?" Lord Mormont laughed uproariously.
"As amusing as this conversation has been, why don't we move on to the purpose of our meeting?" Harry and Aemon waited for the Lord Commander to recover from his laughing fit.
"Right, do you mind if Aemon stays with us? He is my closest confidant and advisor, I can't think of anything you might say that he wouldn't later learn from me."
"If it is fine with you, then I have no problems. Perhaps he might even provide wise counsel to us both." Harry remarked, only to further develop a positive image of himself in their minds.
"That's Aemon, you think those white hairs and wrinkles are for show?" Lord Mormont proclaimed loudly. Maester Aemon tried to hide behind his hands.
The mood properly lightened, Harry decided it was a good time to lay it on him. "When I first arrived, I saw the plight of the Night's Watch with my own eyes for the first time. To say you are undermanned would be an understatement."
Lord Mormont grunted. "Aye, and it will continue to decline unless someone has a few thousand heads to spare."
"A few thousand will certainly go a long way to helping the Night's Watch. It's a testament to how far the watch has fallen when even that wouldn't help us properly man all the abandoned forts." Maester Aemon added with a depressed sigh. Aemon often doubted the decision he took in his youth, if he were king then maybe…
"Not right now I don't. However, in a few moons time if our negotiations are successful then this can be easily done." Harry stated with confidence.
"We were just talking about this before you came in, Lord Stark. The days are shorter as they go by. Winter is coming, as you Starks are fond of saying. I've heard of the work you've pulled off since you took on the duties of Lord Paramount. A brilliant mind that is praised from Dorne to the Wall. I doubt you have the men to spare and you seem like the ambitious kind. Odd in a Stark but stranger things have happened." Harry looked at the man in a new light. The old bear didn't appear to be as simple as he seemed. Images of a panicked and terrified man briefly crossed the Lord Commander's mind that ended with an execution, catching Harry off guard.
"Ah, you are here in hopes of regaining the new gift. That is the only request I can think of that makes sense." Maester Aemon said, back from his state of contemplation.
"You would be correct, Maester Aemon. I came here with a proposition that would benefit us both. If I gave you the men you desire, then that would mean more mouths to feed during winter for you and I lose valuable manpower. If I receive the gift, then I can provide food for the two of us. My inventions will make sure that these lands are used to their fullest potential. In time, this food will allow my population to grow through birth and also by attracting those who want a better life." Harry finished explaining, inwardly regretting his decision to allow Aemon to stay. He wanted to cast a few compulsion spells on the Lord Commander but he wasn't sure just how proficient the Maester was at detecting magic.
Regardless, Harry was positive that Aemon had no way of detecting Legilimency. He'd already taken a few peeks and the old man suspected nothing. "What you say has merit, Lord Stark. Nevertheless, the new gift is a large amount of land in possession of the Night's Watch. My men would not be happy to hear that I gave away our fertile lands." Lord Mormont countered, he held doubts especially with the ease Harry made these promises. The words sounded like they were coming from the mouth of a southron lord rather than a Stark raised by his honorable friend Eddard.
Catching the stray thought, the implication wasn't lost on him. "You say you have heard of my many accomplishments yet you think of me a liar or someone who likes to tell tall tales. You can't even keep these lands safe from the free folk yet you talk of losing them. It is my house who ends up dealing with the wildlings when they become too much for your men to handle. I then ask, of what good is it in your hands when we have to manage them anyway?" Harry heatedly retorted.
Lord Mormont's face turned a deep shade of red, if from anger or embarrassment he did not know. "Listen here, my men are spread thin and the rats on the other side of the wall breed like rabbits. The dangers my men face beyond the wall, is done for the good of the entire realm. If the watch disappeared overnight, all you lords who camp out in your warm castles would get a taste of what we go through every single day. A wet behind-" Lord Mormont was cut off by Aemon who raised his hand out to stop him. It spoke volumes of the strong friendship between the two men.
"Hold your peace, my lord. He is well aware of the plights we face and I doubt anyone finds our situation to be a result of your leadership. He is merely offering a solution to said problem. You could have expressed so without antagonizing the lord commander, Lord Stark." Maester Aemon intervened before the situation escalated. A rift between the Starks and the Watch would benefit no one except the enemy.
"I for one believe the idea holds merit and one that I have to say is a long time coming. I always believed the new gift to be one of the more foolish decisions that my ancestor, the good Queen Alysanne, made. It has only exacerbated the effects of the low manpower the Night's Watch faces." Aemon finished, with a nod towards Harry. 'A wise man indeed.'
"Well said, Maester Aemon. I find this predicament frustrating and I've been on edge these past few days. I offer my apologies to you both." Harry took Aemon's olive branch and decided not to double down as he would have liked.
Lord Mormont took a little longer but came around nonetheless. "I apologize as well, I have a few worries if this deal were to go through. I wasn't wrong when I pegged you as an ambitious lord. We may not be able to utilize the lands as efficiently as you may be able to, Lord Stark, but they grant the Night's Watch a necessary autonomy. We don't rely on the seven kingdoms to provide us with food and we don't give any lord that sort of power over us. If we allowed you to obtain the gift, I worry you may try and hold that over our heads in the future. The night's watch serves the realm as a whole but it does not answer to no king or lord." Lord Commander Mormont tiredly filled his cup with wine.
"A valid concern, my lord. I can only assure you that I will not do such a thing." Harry lied. This was an actual scheme of his that he planned to enact much later when it came time to face what lay further north. Not just the Others, but Harry held interest in certain matters and individuals that resided there. "I will be honest, you are partially correct, this exchange does entail you losing a bit of autonomy. However, you stand to gain much, much more. I can't give you an exact figure now but the Night's Watch would rise back to its old heights." Harry pulled on his decades of leadership to sway and charm the lord commander.
Harry decided to strike while the iron was hot. "As I mentioned before, in a rather unflattering way, we Starks have always aided the Night's Watch in its times of difficulty. No matter the situation, we have upheld the traditions of the first men because that is what the watch is. You are a Mormont, my lord. Us Northerners understand this duty better than anyone else, and we are united in this effort. It was not the Crownlands, the Stormlands, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Reach, Dorne, and certainly not the Iron Islands who came to your aid when you faced destruction. You say you fear the influence I may gain over you but my house never once demanded concessions when it marched to behead mutineers, wildlings, or deserters on behalf of the watch. That is how you can be certain that history will remember you as the lord commander that cleansed the reputation of the watch." Even with no compulsion spells, Legilimency was perfectly capable of manipulating thoughts and emotions although to a slightly lesser degree.
"I may be a stubborn old man but I'm no fool." Lord Mormont was cut off by Aemon's snickering. He glared at his old friend but couldn't keep the smile from taking over his face. "I will have to take your word for it, Lord Stark. If life has taught me anything at all, it's that the word of a Stark is something you can bet your life on. Dealing with the dregs of the kingdom has taken its toll on me since I was promoted to this godsforsaken position."
The next few hours were wisely spent on establishing borderlines and the additional resources the watch would obtain while they waited for the promised manpower. Maester Aemon proved to be a blessing for the lord commander as he pushed for more in exchange for Brandon's gift. The two geezers tried to bleed him dry for the better part of three hours but knowing the mind arts granted Harry ultimate control in any sort of bargaining. In addition to a supply of food and men, the Starks would now have to help repair some of the castles.
Harry was able to delay the repair clause till around the same time the new recruits joined as to give himself time for that massive undertaking. Harry, in turn, haggled for his own fair share if he were to grant them such hefty boons. A portion of Brandon's gift was being ceded as well for a sum just above forty-thousand gold dragons. 'So much for autonomy' Harry thought to himself.
Iron Emmett would be secretly leaving the Night's Watch for Winterfell. Legends of the young man's prowess with a blade reached far and wide but garnered little attention as Emmett was eternally sworn to the watch up until now. Harry held plans of a special task force he had been meaning to form but there weren't many exceptional swordsmen in the North. The north lacked the legendary figures the south held in the shape of Barristan the Bold, Jaime Lannister, and Arthur Dayne who is widely considered to be the greatest swordsman the world has ever seen.
Regrettably, such a strict and significant tradition demanded a noteworthy sacrifice in the form of Benjen Stark. Not much of a loss to Harry since his uncle never wavered in his commitment to join the Night's Watch. Only sticking around because of a pretext Harry fed him about needing his presence in Winterfell for a while longer. His uncle's departure didn't need to be a negative affair, as things would flow easier if a Stark happened to become Lord Commander or rise high in their ranks.
He wanted to ask for an order of well-bred mules from Eastwatch-by-the-sea but Harry figured he could afford to pay for that himself. Those mules and some aurochs would be raised in the gift and used as labor. Aurochs were far stronger and faster than your typical ox while also accustomed to living in the extreme cold like the fields beyond the wall. The trick would be finding and transporting them back across the wall. Thankfully, the Night's Watch would help in this quest as per the agreement that would be known to history as the "Queen's Folly".
Winterfell, The North 297 AC
Near the end of the year, two-hundred and ninety-seven after conquest, many important lords are called to Winterfell for a council. The lords of House Manderly, Bolton, Umber, Ryswell, Mormont, Tallhart, Glover, Forrester, Dustin, Karstark and many others were in attendance.
"Thank you, Lord Ryswell and Lord Bolton. Winter does not seem to be a problem but do not allow this to lull you into complacency. If I hear of any neglect and idleness to this vital part of your duties, I will see it as treason. Do you understand me?" Both lords dutifully nodded but Harry could see the subtle signs of discontent in Roose Bolton's face.
"That goes for everyone else as well. Very well, I'll make sure you are properly rewarded after this season ends. Although, speaking of rewards, I want to congratulate Lord Umber for his outstanding efforts in dealing with the hordes of free folk who attempted to sack Queenscrown." A round of applause echoed throughout the chamber, Greatjon Umber stood up and raised a cup which he drank to the clapping. "I'm of the opinion that these acts of loyalty and courage need to be rewarded." The room went silent, everyone waiting to hear of this reward.
"From now on, starting from the northwestern border of House Karstark, thirty leagues north will belong to the Karstarks. I might add more but that's a number I believe is fair." If the chamber was silent before, now it was dead.
"My lord?" Lord Umber stuttered out in disbelief, the rest of the nobles recovered in silence. "You mentioned a reward… you cannot… the lands of-" His breathing grew more rapid as disbelief gave way to rage.
Before that could happen, Harry doused it with water. "I have spoken with Lord Commander Mormont and he has agreed to give us the new gift and a small portion of Brandon's gift in exchange for things that aren't any of your business. Lord Umber, your lands will now encompass all these newly acquired territories. I expect you to assign new lords to these lands who will be sworn to house Umber. After I have approved of them, of course."
Harry inwardly smirked, he loved toying with people like this. He could have led with the territories first but there was no fun in that. Lord Umber knelt and profusely thanked him.
"Tch! I'd have marched beyond the wall and dealt with them all in one go if I were in his place." Rickard Karstark declared. An argument ensued between the two headstrong lords. Lord Karstark's discontent wasn't limited to him alone, Harry could see the envy many other nobles held in their eyes.
"That's enough. I want this transfer of lands to go smoothly, do not make me regret this, either of you" The arguing stopped and Harry held the room's attention once more. Harry pitied having to give Greatjon Umber this much power but there was no other lord close enough to properly govern the gift. Thankfully, their shaky loyalty had been solidified and bound to him with this reward.
"I will provide the farming equipment, methods, and other supplies you may use but the free folk cannot be allowed to roam the gift as they do today. You will be swift and merciless in your execution. Let them hear stories of the carnage that awaits them if they ever dare to come rape and steal again. Do I make myself clear?" This was imperative, reports of increasing wildling numbers attempting to cross over worried him incessantly. The northern border had to be secured even more so than the southern one.
Greatjon Umber guffawed loudly. This was like asking him to breathe. He planned to do so already, his hatred for wildlings was infamous among the northern lords. "Of course, my lord. Leave it to the Umbers!" Perhaps this is why he was slated to obtain the lands, many lords thought to themselves.
"The lords you choose will be your burden… Their victories, yours. Their failures, yours. As much as I've given to you, as much I will expect. This doesn't come without its strings. You will lead four expeditions into the far north where you will be tasked with bringing at the very least, forty aurochs and twenty mammoths. Ten aurochs will remain with the Night's watch and five mammoths as well." With that wrapped up he turned to the rest of the lords, who anxiously waited their turn.
"Lord Glover and Lady Mormont." Galbart Glover grinned and sat up with anticipation. Maege maintained more composure but her excitement could not be completely concealed. Her daughter, Dacey, has a harder time hiding it, with her wide charming smile. "Your houses have watched over Sea Dragon point and its inhabitants for centuries, if not millennia. Galbart, your house will now rule over Sea Dragon point as well."
"You honor me, Lord Stark. We Glovers have always remained loyal no matter how cold the winter." Lord Glover yelled while banging a fist on his chest. There was plenty yelling around these men, Harry thought to himself. Lady Mormont's face soured, those were the closest lands with any value.
"You Lady Maege, along with house Glover, will build the first of the fleets. The North has been without one for far too long. A flaw that has been repeatedly abused many times in the past. The one in the Sunset Sea will not be as large as the one in the Shivering Sea. Regardless, your house will command this fleet that will be stationed at Sea Dragon Point and Bear Island. It has come to my attention that there are plentiful fishing spots in the waters further north of the Frozen Shore." This brightened the lady's face but a look of confusion followed after.
"My lord, the waters beyond are said to be frozen solid. The waters of the Shivering Sea even more so. A foolhardy venture endeavor, no? Would the warmer areas of the Sunset Sea not be a better place?" Lady Mormont exclaimed, baffled that he did not know this. 'He is still a boy no matter how smart.'
Harry took a deep breath. "Yes, I am aware of these challenges, Lady Mormont. Perhaps some gratitude and a bit of patience will go a long way in making your lands more prosperous. Your nephew, Jorah Mormont, was a slaver, a traitor, and a greedy coward who fled rather than face his punishment. I still hold doubts about your traitorous family so don't test my patience or good will." Jorah Mormont is the disgraced and exiled lord of Bear Island who turned to selling slaves after he could no longer afford to pay for the expensive tastes of his Hightower wife.
Jorah fled once he heard Eddard Stark was coming to execute him. Harry honestly did not know how this man convinced Lord Leyton Hightower to allow such an uneven match, when the Mormonts were amongst the poorest of the northern houses at the time. All it took was a single tournament win held at Harrenhal to convince this lady that the cold North was a suitable place for her. In his opinion, she was just as stupid as the bear people. A Manderly he would understand but it remained unlikely in his mind.
"Forgive me, my lord. I did not wish to speak out of turn." Lady Mormont lowered her head, but underneath the surface her pride swelled into rage and resentment over the embarrassment.
"As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, these fishing spots have amazing potential we are neglecting. I've taken the liberty of designing a new class of ships, those of you who have traveled may find a few similarities to those of the Summer Isles. Mine, of course, are infinitely superior in every way." Pulling out make shift schematics, Harry laid them out on his table and allowed the lords to come up and take a look.
Explaining the inventions of the galleon, clipper, and icebreaker modifications caused the minds of the shrewder lords to go wild. Some of them even sussed out the purpose for not just the ships but the appointments he made. Besides the Glovers and Mormonts, Harry ordered the Boltons, Manderlys, Flints, and Karstarks to construct the fleet on their coasts with a combined effort as the funding was to come from their houses.
"If I may ask, what are these carvings?" Roose Bolton asked. His sharp eyes absorbed any piece of information he could understand. "These, these right here on the bottom of the hull and around the ship."
"Huh? Oh, those are some runic carvings I placed to make them more durable. They have other purposes but it doesn't matter." Harry felt appreciation for the man's keen mind.
"Like as in magical runes?" Lord Manderly spoke up, usually reserved in these meetings. The other lords were surprised, maybe at the mention of magic.
"You know of runes, Lord Manderly?" Harry asked with amusement. Out of all the first men descended lords in the room and none except for an Andal lord were able to spot it. With the additional exception of Roose Bolton but if he understood them, he didn't say.
"I… I believed it prudent to study the culture and history of the lands I live in. Even if they may not be the roots of my own house." Lord Manderly was clearly flustered by the sudden attention and the sensitive nature of the question.
"I applaud you. Yes, they are magical runes." Harry praised him. 'Showing up on matters of first men history might not be in his best interest.'
"Magic hasn't been around for millennia. It probably didn't even exist to begin with. Dragons were the last vestiges of magic left in this world if it ever did." Lady Barbrey Dustin said, a tad too condescending. "I do not doubt your genius, my lord. If you say these ships will help sail the frozen seas then they will." She rushed to say, noting his fierce scowl.
"To hear a northerner say that is heart wrenching." Harry entertained the idea of performing a feat of magic for them but decided against it. "This should be it for now. You are free to rest and enjoy the comforts of Winterfell." The city had developed greatly with the builder's guild taking over its construction projects. There was much to do in it now.
The doors to the council chamber opened abruptly as Maester Luwin walked in. "My lord, I bring a message from the rookery." In his left hand was a scroll with the broken seal of the king.
"Spit it out." Annoyed at Luwin for interfering with his plans to retire to his cozy quarters.
"Rhaegar Targaryen, first of his name, king of the-"
Harry cut him off before the meeting went on any longer. "Just tell me what he wants. Don't actually read the whole letter out to us." He was tired and hungry and his comfortable bed kept whispering in his ear.
"Yes, well the king plans to journey to Winterfell after the wedding of Prince Viserys and Lady Margaery. The king will want your pledge of loyalty to the Iron Throne. Failure to procure one will end in your summary execution." Luwin said with a somber tone, his intuition telling him that Harry had no intentions of giving one.
Harry snorted. "Lovely, he can come try." Audible gasps filled the room. Realizing his slip, Harry cleared his throat. "I mean… let us welcome our good king with open arms. I might attend the lovely wedding to extend my heartfelt congratulations to the realm's most beloved couple. I sincerely encourage everyone here to attend. You are all dismissed. Lady Barbrey, you can stay." And finally the first official council of Winterfell came to an end.
Kingslanding, The Crownlands 298 AC
A single candle burned fiercely against the darkness that strived to engulf it. The scratches of a quill echoed in the quiet room, a white-haired man scribbled tirelessly as if the parchment would slip away if he took his eyes off for a moment.
"My love, are you coming to bed?" Elia Martell asked her husband, a soft tone that did well to hide the frustration she felt. The candle in her hand revealed more of the room. Piles of books littered his personal study with writings carelessly strewn all over the floor and other surfaces.
"I don't feel the need to sleep right now." Rhaegar answered without pausing, the scratching of the quill filled the awkward silence.
"Is this about the eggs?" Elia Martell avoided stepping on her husband's work and slipped her arms around his shoulders. "Varys gave you his word that he would retrieve them from Esoss so why are you still in this mood? I imagined you would have been happy to hear of their promised return."
The topic gave pause to Rhaegar's stream of thoughts. "Dragon eggs are precious and I hold my own reservations about…" Rhaegar looked around but relaxed once he saw the closed door.
"About his ability to bring them back?" Elia finished for him. "Why? When Varys makes such strong promises he's always delivered."
Rhaegar leaned back and scratched his chin. "It's not that I doubt his ability to retrieve the eggs. I will celebrate once they're here, that's all there is to that. The spider believes I don't suspect him of ulterior motives but I see the same scheming look in his eyes that these loyal subjects of mine share." Everyone wanted to be related to the royal line and many would go far in order to achieve this. These plots often caused more harm than good and left Rhaegar with more work. Varys was different, it bothered Rhaegar that a man with that much power didn't hold the same ambitions. This left him pondering about the eunuch's true motives and aspirations.
"I remember hearing that your father pulled some from Dragonstone a while back. Why not just use those? Or the ones from… nevermind." Elia Martell backtracked on the subject of Summerhall. The tragedy casted a long shadow that deeply affected Rhaegar to this day.
Rhaegar reached out for her hands, holding them in a touching grasp. "It's fine, those eggs were damaged beyond saving. As for these three, I've dreamt of them." Elia waited for him to elaborate but saw her husband had fallen into one of his daydreams.
"Dreamt of them? Why these three?" Elia Martell pressed. She always made an effort to support Rhaegar in all of his endeavors no matter how wild but she couldn't do that if Rhaegar went unquestioned by her.
"The workings of magic and prophecy are beyond me. Even the hag of high heart, with all her vaunted experience couldn't do it either." A small amount of resentment leaked into his voice.
"Just know I'm here with you, every step of the way." Turning his head to her, Elia pulled him in for a long, sensual kiss. "Do you truly intend to go to Winterfell?"
Rhaegar frowned at the random change of subject, he was enjoying the kiss too. "Why wouldn't I? Every Lord Paramount, when they assume the position, are obligated to come swear allegiance to my house."
"Our house." Elia said. "I'm only worried that something may happen to you. I'd be less worried if you had a dragon." She pouted, but her worry was real.
Rhaegar laughed. "That is what I'm working towards. I've seen it. The old heights of my house will soon be surpassed and no one will dare to challenge our reign again. Not the Baratheons, not the Lannisters, not the Arryns, and definitely not some upjumped Stark boy. I've heard of him, a genius unlike any other. A proud one too I'm sure. He thinks he can avoid this but he will soon learn otherwise." Leaning in for a kiss, Elia backed away slightly.
"Your father once encountered a similar situation. I've had my own dreams, I fear what may happen if you go north."
Rhaegar grabbed her and gave her the kiss he'd been wanting. "I doubt the Starks are so far gone that they would have me killed. I know Lord Stark isn't as loyal as they come but they will never break the sacredness of guest rights. Viserys is more likely to kill me than any northern lord."
"Don't say that about your own family. Although, I suppose you're right. I only ask that you be careful." Elia held him, afraid even if she didn't outwardly show it. A part of her wanted to bring up his bastard in the north but ruining this moment between them wasn't worth any petty satisfaction.