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The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, amber glow over the land as Harry and all those around him packed up their camp. They were now only a day's ride from King's Landing, and over the past couple of days Harry had felt the mood shift amongst those he had been riding with. The closer they drew to the capital, with the exception of Sansa, the tenser the Stark party seemed, but even Sansa had noticed her father's mounting seriousness.
Harry had just finished saddling his horse when he noticed Ned Stark riding toward him. He was alone, which was unusual; typically, at least one of his guards rode alongside him. Harry glanced around, expecting to see another rider approach, but Ned stopped just before him, his expression as grave as ever.
"Harry," he said, voice calm but carrying a subtle weight that immediately made Harry attentive. "Would you ride with me for a time?"
Harry hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation. Ned's demeanor, always serious, seemed even more intense now, his mouth set in a hard line, his eyes unwavering. Harry felt a flicker of caution—it was rare for the Lord of Winterfell to call someone aside for a private talk, but whatever this was about, it wasn't a casual invitation and it was very clear that refusing wasn't an option.
"Of course, my lord," Harry replied, schooling his expression to hide any trace of nerves. He swung up onto his horse, following Ned as they moved away from the camp, the sounds of the other travelers slowly fading behind them.
They rode in silence at first. Harry attempted to strike up a conversation, making polite comments about the journey and the nearing city, but Ned's responses were brief, curt, as if he barely heard Harry. After a few tries, Harry fell silent, glancing over at Ned and sensing that the older man was building up to something. Ned's jaw was set, his eyes fixed ahead, and the silence between them grew heavier with each passing minute.
Finally, after they'd put enough distance between themselves and the rest of the group, Ned reined in his horse, slowing down, turning to face Harry directly. He let out a long breath, then spoke with the straightforward honesty Harry had come to expect from the man.
"What are your plans in King's Landing, Harry?" he asked, his voice steady but probing. There was a cautious undertone in his words, as though he were testing the waters.
Harry straightened in his saddle, caught slightly off-guard. "Plans?" he repeated. "Well … I've honestly been curious about the capital. Maester Luwin told me what I had heard and read were poor representations, so I thought I'd explore, see what there is before I make any decisions. And once that is done … perhaps I'll look into the healing arts—there are ingredients I came across on the road that could make useful medicines. Or maybe I'll keep keeping an eye on Arya and Sansa for you," he added with a small, cautious smile. "Just to be sure they don't get into trouble."
Ned gave a sharp nod at that, his expression still unreadable. Then he pulled his horse to a full stop and turned to Harry, eyes narrowing with a glint of restrained intensity.
"Harry, I know you haven't been completely honest with me since you arrived in Winterfell," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I allowed it, thinking you might have your reasons. But I'm their father, and I need to know who or what you are—especially if you mean to protect my daughters in the capital."
Harry's pulse quickened as he noticed Ned's hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Though the blade stayed in its scabbard, the gesture spoke volumes. Harry forced himself to remain calm, reminding himself that Ned hadn't drawn his sword and that he probably wouldn't, not unless Harry gave him cause.
"I understand your caution, my lord," Harry said slowly, meeting Ned's gaze. "I would have questions too, if I were in your position."
Harry paused, considering his next words carefully. The truth about where he was from was something he doubted Ned would believe, and in any case, it was too dangerous to share.
The silence stretched between them, heavy as a winter snowfall. And Ned Stark made no move to remove his hand from the pommel of his sword, his gaze locked onto Harry, unblinking and unrelenting. Harry could feel the weight of that look, piercing and penetrating, as though Ned was trying to see straight through him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said, trying to keep his voice steady, his face blank. But Ned didn't waver. Instead, he shook his head slowly, his expression a careful mask of wariness and determination.
"Don't try to play the fool and deny it, Harry," Ned replied, his voice low and firm. "I've had my suspicions about you since the day you saved my guardsman' daughter, Eira."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he forced himself to hold Ned's gaze. Under the sharp, unforgiving scrutiny of the Lord of Winterfell, the casual, instinctive lies he had come up with seemed useless, and he was having trouble thinking of something to say in the moment.
Ned continued; voice calm yet unyielding. "After you saved her and Maester Luwin was looking after you, I sent men back to the place where the attack happened. I had thought it was odd that they found no weapon on you when you stumbled up to the gate. And for someone with no weapon, your story about holding off several armed attackers seemed ... well, there was no way that fight should have gone in your favor—not with the relatively minor injury you sustained, not without help or something unusual at play."
Harry didn't speak, his mind racing for some plausible denial, some way to deflect. But he knew it was hopeless. The truth was written all over Ned's face. He wasn't guessing; he was certain. The facts lined up too neatly, and Harry's role in those moments had been too strange, too miraculous.
"Then," Ned continued, his voice shifting to something colder, more suspicious, "beyond the situation where you managed to save Arya in the Wolfswood. There was the incident at the ford. You saved my daughter again."
Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling the burn of anxiety. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he could tell his surprise must have shown. His brows shot up almost instinctively.
Ned's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening. "You didn't think I'd somehow not hear of it, did you?" he said, his tone almost challenging. "I spoke with my daughters as soon as I saw them that evening. And while Arya refused to say anything, Sansa told me everything that she saw, including Arya's stick flying out of her hand right before she managed to hit the prince and then seeing you point something at a tree which them fell over as if cut."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ned raised a hand, cutting him off again. "Do not try to deny this, Harry. I rode back to the ford with Jory before we left the area the next morning, and I saw the tree Sansa spoke of. I examined it myself."
He paused, watching Harry's reaction, his eyes probing for any sign of deception.
"No axe or saw could've done that to a tree," he continued. "The cut was too clean, as if someone had taken the sharpest sword imaginable and sliced through it like parchment. I doubt even Valyrian steel would leave a cut that smooth."
Harry looked away, realizing that any attempts to deny his involvement would only make things worse. Ned Stark was perceptive, and his suspicion had apparently been hardening into certainty for some time. Harry could almost feel the weight of the accusations hanging between them, unavoidable and unshakable.
After a long, tense pause, Harry released a deep breath, lowering his head slightly. He thought briefly about what he might do if the situation turned hostile—his wand was within reach, and he could stun Lord Stark if things went wrong. But that would mean leaving behind everything he'd built here, every small bit of trust he'd earned.
He raised his head, meeting Ned's eyes with resolve, and nodded. "The truth is … I've been trained to use magic," he admitted quietly. "I'm able to do things that are … or at least would seem unnatural and impossible to most people. But I try to use my abilities only to help others, my lord. I would never harm your family."
Ned's expression shifted, his face darkening. His hand tensed on the hilt of his sword, and his brow furrowed as he looked at Harry with a mixture of dread and surprise.
"What do you mean you can do magic?" Ned demanded, his voice laced with unease. "Is this blood magic? Or the dark arts of the Targaryens?"
Harry hesitated, feeling the old wariness rise in his chest. But he forced himself to keep his voice steady as he replied, "No, it's not blood magic, and I don't know what magic the Targaryens practiced, but … I doubt it's anything like mine."
Ned's frown deepened as he scrutinized Harry, looking for any sign of deceit. "Then what is it?" he pressed, his voice tense. "Where did you learn it?"
Harry swallowed, carefully choosing his words. "What it is … well that's hard. As for where I learned it. I know you haven't pushed me to say where I'm from, my lord, and I appreciate that. But it's true—I come from very far away. I'm … " he trailed off, shaking his head.
Ned's eyes remained narrow, his posture guarded but curious. "Far away, you say," he murmured, as though trying to make sense of the words.
Harry managed a small, cautious smile. "Yes. And where I come from, there's a place … a school, I don't know if there is anything like it in Westeros. But it is probably similar to where the maesters are trained, but of course the one I went to was to teach magic."
The notion seemed to give Ned pause, his expression contemplative. But then he shook his head, the distrust hardening in his gaze once more. "So, it was there you learned these skills?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. My parents … they had the ability to use magic too, and I was born with it. That's why I was trained, to learn to control it. To use it for good."
Ned studied him for a long, tense moment, his silence almost suffocating. Harry could feel his heart racing as the older man seemed to weigh every word, every subtle expression on Harry's face. The silence stretched, a heavy pause that felt as if it would snap any second.
Finally, Ned nodded slowly, though his expression remained grim. "I'm not sure if I fully believe you, although it would make sense. However, Harry I must warn you if you are being honest … magic is a dangerous thing," he said, his tone carefully measured. "It has brought ruin to Westeros before. The Targaryens—" He cut himself off, seeming to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. "But I have seen your deeds. You saved Eira and Arya twice. If not for your intervention … they would likely be dead. That much I cannot ignore."
Harry let out a slow breath, relief and tension mingling in his chest.
"Still," Ned went on, his voice hardening, "you must understand the risk you carry. While it certainly makes me uncomfortable, but I can ignore it as I feel you are a good person. But if the wrong people were to learn of this … ability, you'd be seen as a threat. More than that, anyone near you would be seen as tainted, caught in your shadow." He paused, his gaze weighing Harry's reaction. "And it would put my family in jeopardy."
Harry looked away, the weight of Ned's words settling heavily over him. He had known the risks that he would face if, and when, he finally revealed his abilities but hadn't fully thought about the risk to others.
"I know," Harry replied quietly, forcing himself to meet Ned's gaze. "That's why I've been careful, my lord. Although Eira did find out, I haven't shared my secret with anyone else here, because I know how people react. Where I'm from … there was a time in the past where others like me would have been hunted down for it, those with any magical ability, and more often than not proof wasn't required. They ..."
Ned's expression shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Hunted down?"
Harry nodded. "It's a complicated history. There are people who fear what they don't understand, who'd rather eliminate anything that doesn't fit their idea of normal. But even though times changed, I still grew up knowing I had to hide my ability from a majority of the people around me. But despite this, I learned early that I had a responsibility to use my power to protect, not to harm."
Ned looked thoughtful, his expression finally easing from suspicion to something more contemplative. "And you would use this power for the same purpose here?"
"Yes," Harry replied firmly. "I would never harm your family, Lord Stark. You've treated me well, gave me a place to stay, trusted me near your children. I don't take that lightly."
Ned watched him for a long moment, and Harry could feel his own heart hammering in his chest, waiting for the lord's final judgment.
"Then hear me, Harry," Ned said finally, his tone as stern as ever. "If you're to stay with us, your loyalty to my family must be absolute. Any misstep in King's Landing, any rumor of your … abilities could bring ruin on all of us."
"I understand," Harry said, nodding. "I've tried to be careful when using magic, whether it was when I used it to save Eira, Arya, or Bran."
Harry's last words hung in the air, the weight of his revelation settling between them. He glanced at Lord Stark, who had gone silent, a mix of astonishment and guarded calculation playing over his stern features. In that moment, Harry realized how exposed he'd made himself.
For a long while, Ned said nothing, his gaze drifting to the forest as if lost in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, yet laced with a sharp edge. "You tried … to save Bran?"
Harry nodded, swallowing hard. "I know it sounds strange. Especially since he ended up getting hurt. But when I saw him get pushed out of the broken tower window, I tried to save him. I ... I used what magic I could to slow him down, to soften his fall. He would've been more than just injured otherwise."
Ned's eyes searched Harry's face, his skepticism fading into something else, something almost like gratitude. "You're telling me he was pushed? Not an accident?"
Harry hesitated, feeling the weight of his words before he nodded slowly. "Yes. I saw him come out of the window too fast for it to have been a slip or a mistake. I didn't see who pushed him, but I was nearby when it happened." He paused, glancing away for a moment, unwilling to meet the Lord's intense stare. "Falling from that height … well, he would've been far more hurt. But with magic, I was able to slow him down enough that his body was alright. That's why he survived."
A profound silence stretched between them, heavy with the realization of how close he had come to losing Bran entirely—and how Harry's strange magic had intervened. Ned's jaw worked as he processed Harry's words, wrestling between skepticism and gratitude. Finally, he exhaled a long, slow breath, and his face softened ever so slightly.
"Then I thank you," he said, voice roughened by the strain of a father barely holding his composure. "You may have saved my son's life, and for that, you have my gratitude." He paused, drawing himself up and casting a wary glance at Harry. "But this knowledge … this ability you possess … there will be those who will not see it as I do. Especially here in Westeros, people fear and mistrust magic. Even if your intentions are good, you must understand that others may only see the risk."
Harry inclined his head, understanding. "I'm well aware, my lord. As I said, back where I came from, magic was feared too. It's why I've kept it hidden since I arrived and only used it to protect myself and those who are in danger." He said looking Ned Stark in the eyes.
Ned studied him with that sharp, searching gaze, the kind that weighed every word, every subtle expression, as if he could pluck the truth from the air. After a long pause, he finally nodded. "For now, I will not reveal what you have told me, Harry. Not to my family, and not to anyone in this camp. But heed my warning—use your abilities carefully, lest you know who might be watching, and be cautious with whoever you consider telling your abilities to."
Relief flooded through Harry, and he dipped his head in a gesture of gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Stark."
Ned raised a hand, halting him before he could continue. "This is not trust given lightly. According to the legends, magic is a dangerous thing to wield, and honestly, I am still wary of you. But … I believe you mean well. And I want to trust you. And that counts for something." He turned his horse, signaling the end of their conversation. "Come, let us return to camp."
They rode in silence, but Harry could feel Ned's occasional, cautious glances cast in his direction. The forest around them had grown still, and the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the ground. Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but he also knew the burden of responsibility had only grown heavier.
When they reached the edge of the camp, Harry could see Arya and Sansa talking by the fires, their faces, surprisingly, bright with laughter. Around them most of the camp had already been dismantled as everyone was preparing to head out for the capital.
As they dismounted, Ned turned to him once more, his expression unreadable. "Remember what I said," he murmured. "Here, secrets are often worth more than gold, and just as dangerous. Yours moreso than most. Keep yours wisely."
With that, he strode away, heading towards his daughters, leaving Harry standing by his horse, alone with the echo of Ned's words and the quiet buzz of the camp. Harry took a steadying breath, feeling the tension ease from his body. For now, his secret was safe, but he knew he would need to tread carefully especially with King's Landing so near.
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Story Note 1 – And alas one of the major characters confronts Harry about his magic and the truth is out there (for the record, just in case it was missed, the individual from the last chapter who was staring at Harry appraisingly in the camp was indeed Sansa, congrats to those who guessed). This will certainly lead to future story arcs. However just wanted to show that even though Ned liked Harry and felt indebted to him for saving his family, he was still wary about his abilities a sentiment which will certainly be shared among most in Westeros. This will be used in upcoming chapters and contrasted with someone, who might not be as close to Harry, when they find out about his abilities … just hope it's not Littlefinger.
Story Note 2 – This chapter ended up being slightly shorter than most chapters although I felt it stood by itself as an important addition and hope you enjoyed it. This mostly was because it was important to happen but wanted to leave the next chapter to star with them in King's Landing rather than try to put these ones together.
Story Note 3 – As alluded to above, working up to the next individual finding out about his ability. If there are any guesses as to who it might be and how it happens let me comment and I will message the person who is right. And whoever guesses correctly …
A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.
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BioHazard82 - Thanks so much for the feedback and I really hope you continue to enjoy the story as it progresses!
Kairan1979 - I 100% agree although I have a feel he could and will learn
Simianpower - The immersion is certainly something that is a work in progress.
NCC1701D USS Enterprise - Without a doubt that's true. Harry definitely has his work cut out for him.
squidsk - That will certainly be something that will come up. As he begins to develop trust and his relationships!
Blaze1992 - Don't worry as soon as Harry sees something that jumps out as actually bad behavior from Joffrey I'd imagine he's instore for something a little worse than just the Bat Bogey Hex.
Fenrir070 - Super appreciate the continued feedback! Without a doubt he would imagine they were serious responsibilities (he does sort of have a protecting and saving people thing). I imagine Arya might take a while but will eventually start to pick up on stuff. I'd worry that anyone who sticks their nose in might be in trouble.
Monkey D. Conan - Oh ya without a doubt. But a lot easier to do the whole do what I say and not what I do. Plus making mistakes certainly provides perspective.
