Chapter 5 - Old Hound, New Tricks

Sandor Clegane didn't know what the fuck was going on. A weird man with glowing green eyes did something with a fiery red light and the next thing he knew, he was in chains.

"Up you get, dog." Two guards pulled him out of the mud the moment he woke up.

The Hound grunted as he was hauled to his feet, the leg cuffs being a bit much.

"Get a movin' dog! Yer about to get what's comin' to ya!" One of the guards said, no house affiliation on their tabard.

Sandor wasn't impressed, he just grunted and followed on.

He inspected the surroundings until he found a mostly burnt Frey flag on the ground as the guards led him. They were in the Twins, the fucker must have dragged his unconscious ass over there.

Speaking of the glowing green-eye bastard, he was sitting in an out-of-place chair in old Walder's dining hall.

"Ahh, Hound, was it?" The man said, looking up at him.

He didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes.

"Well, I have an offer for you. Fight me one on one, if I win you work for me from now on. If you win, I give you a bag of gold and you walk free," He said.

"If I win you will be in pieces."

He laughed, "I am giving you a chance to leave, join me, or be on your way to do...whatever it is you would do. A better chance than most would get, I'm sure. You see, I need skilled fighters, and while you are just a big fucker, I need to make sure that you are worth investing in. Understand?"

The Hound sniffed, it wasn't that his nose was running, but the gesture filled the silence between them. "How the fuck did you knock me out?"

The man smiled again, "Would you like me to show you again?"

The anger inside him swelled, "Tsch, fight me square!"

He laughed, "Why would I do that?"

"Fucking tricks...fight me one to one, blade to blade," He was getting mad, but he had no fucking clue what that red light was.

"Tricks? I suppose, but this isn't about fairness. Nothing in life is fair, if that was the case then this would be a much different world, I'm sure," Harry said.

The Hound stared at the Wizard's nonchalant nature. It was rare that the Hound faced someone who had total confidence in a fight against him, though he did just face off against Baric Dondarian and that fucker didn't give two shits whether he won or lost either.

The Hound was normally bigger, faster, and stronger than any opponent, he usually faced off against, making the need for long-practiced swordplay irrelevant.

The man in front of him either relied on those tricks that knocked him out in the first place or he is extremely talented with the blade in non-lethal circumstances like the Knight of Flowers - a pretty boy that doesn't know what killing is about. The Hound knew what war was, what killing was, having fought his whole life. He would have to use that to his advantage.

The Hound didn't see where he pulled that black blade from, but the swirls were very familiar. Too bad it's a tiny thing, a scimitar, or whatever the fuck they call it. Still, it would fetch a fine price when he took it from the man's dead grasp.

He drew his blade with a nod, a crude piece of steel, and lunged forward with a false thrust, then stepped forward with his left foot and put his weight behind the strike. The very same chopping strike that temporarily took the life of Baric Dondarion.

The man casually swiped his slightly curved blade with little effort, like the strike wasn't worth his time. The strange man deflected the blow and reached out with his open left hand. Sandor found himself flying through the air and crashing through a table, having been hit in the chest with an open palm that felt like being kicked by a horse.

He got up though, feeling the pain in his chest. The armor could only take so much of the strike, but the scale mail proved to be tough enough.

"Fucking tricks!" Hound said. This kid might not be as bloodied as he was, but that hit wasn't a joke. He spat blood before growling.

"You're growling...I guess being called the Hound makes more sense."

His only chance was a trick of his own. He didn't have the great sword he usually preferred, having grabbed a longsword on his way out of the capital, but it was longer than that smiling little shit's curved blade, heavier too.

He wasted no time on perfected strikes and went for overwhelming lethality. A strike that could split a tree crossed his opponent at the belly, but something shifted strangely and his strike passed harmlessly. Sandor didn't have time to think about how his eyes weren't showing him what was happening, but he continued with a 5-strike pattern he favored in open spaces. He had felled hundreds of people with each of these strikes.

Yet he found only open air. Each strike wasn't close enough or was easily sidestepped. It was confusing to his honed combat senses, trying to hit shadows with a blade. The last strike was met with another palm in retaliation, he could almost see the force leaving the hand as it sent him flying.

The Hound got knocked on his ass once again as darkness closed over his eyes. The little smiling shit had kicked his ass.

"Well, you are tough, but you aren't stupid," The man assessed. "I can work with that."

~~o0o~~

Harry decided to bid King Robb goodbye for now. He disappeared with the Hound's knocked-out body, gear included. A small crack of the air dispersed and they landed in the clearing where the Hound and Arya were originally. Harry set up a full set of temporary wards, bringing him back to the time he was on the run with Ron and Hermione back in the day.

With a wave of his hand, he conjured a table, strong enough to hold up the weight he was about to lay on it.

Harry gave the Hound a series of healing tinctures of Wiggenwald, Wound-Cleaning Potion, Essence of Dittany for skin regeneration, and a few others. He then ensured that the Hound remained knocked out with a Dreamless Sleep potion which would allow Harry to heal him fully. His chest had a plethora of broken ribs, thanks to Harry's silent and wandless Depulso charms. He had tried to keep them low powered but they still did severe amounts of damage to the normal human.

Harry also applied some burn and scar removal salves that cleaned up the man's brutal facial scars. He finished it off with some hair growth so he wasn't so rough to look at. Even gave him a haircut with a few quick swipes of his wand.

With the Hound sleeping, and his healing finished, Harry discovered something interesting in his bag.

Harry pulled an intimidating snarling dog-shaped helmet out. Harry laughed, "Ah, the Hound indeed."

Harry decided to spend a bit of time enchanting and he came up with a fantastic idea. The helm opened with the top half of the dog's head rising like an engine hood, fangs included. The bottom half is also lowered simultaneously with a simple and effective hinge. The slim viewing window through the snarling mouth was more than most helms gave a knight, but the weakness of having an opening was still present.

"If I can up the intimidation factor by illuminating the eyes and creating a sort of smoke for the mouth..." He trailed off with a devious smile.

He heard a laugh in his mind, "Try this rune, it will have the effects you are looking for."

An image of a rune appeared in his mind, and he stopped what he was doing to absorb the knowledge. He conjured a small piece of copper and transfigured the rune into the surface. Strangely billowing black smoke came from the rune after he filled it with magic, looking like angry black clouds to some degree. It was scentless, like the black mist produced by his scimitar.

It was still a water-based mist so it just left the air around it a bit humid. He could also put a series of control runes to affect each aspect of the smoke as well. He did just that and found a fun combination that should work for the space he was dealing with, reducing the humidity to prevent freezing in colder climates, increasing the volume and production rates, and eliminating any chance of having the smoke reenter the helm.

"Thank you," He quietly said to Death.

Copying the formation of runes looked like a circle with three smaller circles tied to each of the three equally spaced directions. He put it on the roof of the snarling mouth of the dog's mouth so it would flow out like saliva, but not bother his breathing at all. He then set up a smaller transfiguration array that would close off the front of the helm within the mouth, so if struck there any blade or arrow would be stopped.

Breathing was the next thing to deal with, a set of clean-air summoning runes would activate when the helm was closed so the Hound would be able to breathe clean air. The runes were made to summon runes from a location, easy to do with a series of connection runes so the wind was summoned from the rear of the helmet, enabling a constant airflow.

Harry thought for a second, remembering the massive amount of burns he cured on the Hound's face, then he added a flame-freezing rune that would make it so he would be immune to any non-magical flames and partially resistant against magical flames while wearing the helmet. It would last as long as the magic does before something along the level of Fiendfyre consumed them both.

The final set of runes was to increase the wearer's vision, and it essentially was a mix between an alteration and divination rune, allowing for perfect and immediate vision outside of his helm. It would even work in the darkest of situations.

Harry finished everything off with the central governing runes. Then he wrote out a contract that was tied to the enchantments on the helm. He wrote out a contract with a scribing spell Hermione taught him back in school, then signed with a more advanced blood quill that was known as a Signatory Quill. This one just signed with a small amount of blood as it painlessly took a single drop for a signature.

The contract that Harry wrote outlined everything that he expected from the Hound in perpetuity. It also had a clause that said if he betrayed the contract then he would lose his life, his magical possessions, and anything else. The Hound would have been killed if he hadn't saved him on account of trying to ransom Arya, this is how Harry would ensure his loyalty.

Now to find him a proper great sword to include in the contract, after all, every good swordsman needed a worthy sword.

"Know of any interesting great swords people wouldn't mind losing?" Harry asked Death. "And what was the metal you were talking about earlier? Dragon-flame steel or something?"

Death appeared like she had been standing there the entire time, perhaps a bit too pleased at him calling for her. The rasping voice of Death didn't flow out audibly, but went directly into his mind, bypassing any form of occlumency he had like it didn't exist.

"Valyrian steel, yes. There are a few that fit your needs, a Valyrian Steel great sword, stolen from house Royce to start. The blade was in the hands of House Wheaton for a time, it is within a cave lost to time," Death said. She projected an image of the blade, named Lamentation, to his mind.

It was long, 180 centimeters (~70 inches), scorched-black Valyrian steel ripples flowed along the dark blade. A golden cross guard and red-leather wrapped double-handed handle held the blade together. It was capped with a golden pentagonal pommel with a perfectly square sapphire held in a central hole of the pommel.

Harry nodded at the image and attempted one of his newer spell ideas, which only had a chance of working as he could fully picture his target, "Portus-Accio Lamentation."

The sword appeared in front of him with a thumb of displaced air, wrapped in old cloth like a temporary scabbard. A strip of dark steel covered the tang on both sides, inert and nonsense runes were carved along the blade doing nothing and adding nothing to the user or the blade. He disassembled the blade, leaving a clean piece of Valyrian steel behind.

Strength, speed, imperviousness, cutting power, momentum, sharpness, self-cleaning, and the returning runes were placed in a linear array along both sides of the fuller. Perfectly mirrored.

He would have to finish the rest of the parts at another date, as well as finish the enchantments by filling them with magic.

Death's voice poured into his mind after he finished the rune-work on the blade, "Another is known as Vigilance, only a longsword, owned by the House of Hightower and wielded during the Dance of Dragons. It was lost in the First Battle of Tumbleton, stolen after its wielder was killed, but then lost in some bushes, where it remains," Death explained and also sent an image of the sword into his mind.

It was a dirty thing, covered in the wear and tear from years of sitting in the elements. He summoned it as well with a Portus-Accio and immediately followed up with a Scourgify. Plans for this sword were on hold, but it would be fun to fix up later on.

Into his moleskin pouch for both swords until he could finish them. At least they were clean for now.

It was then that he hit the Hound with a silent Enervate spell, bringing the healed man back to consciousness.

"Morning then."

The Hound grumbled but he opened and closed his jaw while grimacing and moving this face around. The previous scarring had constantly pulled on his face with every move, leaving him to keep a straight face instinctually or the pain of stretched skin straining would be constantly present. Now being able to move without pain had to be relieving, if strange.

He groaned at waking up from unconsciousness once again, unsure of how many times he had been knocked out recently.

"So, you lost the fight between us, stacked against you as it was, but the final question remains. Will you work for me?"

The Hound stared at him for a long minute then finally shook his head, "What do I have to do?"

Harry grinned and explained the contract, what he had in mind, and the expectations of the Hound. The only thing that he said would be guaranteed was enough gold to do what he needed when he wasn't on duty but would be expected to do his job whenever Harry needed him to.

"It's this or death," The sheer conviction in Harry's glowing eyes was enough for the Hound to see the writing on the wall. "I won't have someone I can't trust get my back, after all."

In the end, the Hound signed it and Harry smiled, "Good man!" He stood up, "A gift for you there. I healed your scars as well as made it so when wearing your helm you are immune to any sort of non-magical flames. I have a sword for you, but it's not ready just yet. I will give it to you soon, so just stick with that piece of shit until then. You are on watch, for now, if you need me just knock on the trunk, yeah?"

Harry summoned and climbed into his trunk leaving the Hound to start his watch.

"What the fuck," The Hound said. This had to be the strangest day he had ever had.

~~o0o~~

"Chancey, bring the new exterior guard some food. Don't let him see you."

"Yes, Master Harries!" Chancey said, popping out as fast as she came.

The little elf loved bringing people food and the Hound probably hadn't eaten since before Harry kicked his ass.

"A new pet for my champion?" Death's voice slid into his mind like a snake looking for prey.

Harry laughed, looking over the lake within the Peverell Manor. The dimensional space was the largest self-contained dimension Harry had ever seen. Made with ancient runes and Peverell Family magic, the pocket space felt like an entire realm of his own. This was his favorite gift upon realizing his inheritance included the Peverell vault. It was still no surprise that Death could enter as easily as anything.

"A curiosity. Willis?" Harry asked. The Elf in charge of his Armory appeared.

"Good day, Master Harry Sir!" The old male elf appeared.

"Would you put these on my workbench" Harry started pulling Lamentation and Vigilance out, "And if you are looking for something to do, feel free to use that basilisk hide to start on a scabbard for this blade." He pointed at Lamentation to have the scabbard made, regardless of its state.

His eyes widened in delight, "An interesting metal, sir! Willis would be honored to make a sheathe for mMasterHarries! Would you like me to finish the blade?"

"Hmmm, sure, but keep it dark and unadorned. It's for a brooding figure, so a bunch of gems don't make sense. Leave the other one for me though, I think I will rework it at some point."

The little guy disappeared with a huge grin, both blades in tow, and got to work.

Death laughed, but changed the subject, "Do you remember how to enter the dream world?"

"I do. The whole Astral Projection thing, but while sleeping. Easy."

"This world's Dream is filled with wooden faces, frozen eyes, blue tongues, burning souls, and..." Death's smile grew as she kept Harry waiting, "A mother of dragons."

"A whole lot of vague things and then the Mother of Dragons?" Harry asked. "That's not ominous at all."

"She wanders in the world of dreams, a lost hatchling waiting to be devoured. Another Champion is there, of the depths, of the sea. The fool defies Death...he will learn there is no escape."

"Another Champion...I'll take a peak, but this is a strange way of telling me to get more sleep."

"I wouldn't want my Champion to exhaust himself."

He nodded, "Well, good night then."

His mother's face smiled her terrible smile, this time filled with pride of sorts. He couldn't even begin to parse that so he just shrugged it off.

Harry enjoyed walking through the Manor, the expansive halls were much closer to that of a castle. But it said 'Peverell Manor' on the title so he went with that. Today, he Apparated to the master bedroom after walking into the large hall. It was an entire wing of the castle, hidden behind a beautiful set of carved doors nearly 10 meters tall. The dark wood looked like a black cherry or something along those lines and the symbol of the Deathly Hallows was carved into it with delicate skill.

It didn't take long to go to sleep, the last few days without it were starting to add up, but he made his preparations to head into the Dream world.

The Peverell Manor was more than just a realm in a box but was a magical artifact tied to the blood and magic of its owner. When he awoke in the world of dreams, his own personal dreamscape was housed within an Astral Projection of the Peverell Manor. It was a fortress in both physical reality, and in the world of dreams, one overlayed with the other.

Harry appeared by the front entrance and looked out into the wider world. Flying across the realm of dreams wasn't like flying in reality, with no wind resistance or danger of falling. Harry summoned a mental projection of his Firebolt, hopping on the ghostly copy with glee. He flew off in any direction since it didn't matter, and regardless of how well he knew the speed of the broom, it felt like he was going faster than ever.

Things started to change when he saw a light in the distance. A woman of blood and flame stood with her eyes closed.

Tentacles and dark turquoise water flowed around her, but she couldn't see it. She hadn't fully manifested in the Dream yet, but her magic had.

A man with two personalities, behind two different eyes, stared at the woman with greed, lust, and hunger. His face constantly changed as if the two personalities were at war within. Each time it did, the eye patch switched eyes, leaving one glowing eye illuminated.

One eye as deep blue as the ocean, filled with sanity, charisma, and ambition.

The other a glowing red, containing madness, malevolent will, and pure hatred.

Harry let his aura go a bit, magical power flowing from him like green death energy. He realized that his sword seemed to affect him within this realm. Within his right hand, the blade appeared, cruel and dark, ready for work.

The man noticed him and turned with a snarl.

Black mist billowed out, easily replacing the willpower behind the man's attacks. Tentacles tried to slam at Harry, but the strange nature of the Dream was that willpower was the most important attribute a being could have here. His had been tested his whole life, constantly training to master his magic made it easy to overpower the other champion. Harry was just too strong.

The dwindling image of the woman was reignited as the shitty attempt at magical control was rebuffed by Harry. With a single swipe of his sword and the man was blasted away, banished from the Dream with a stunning blast.

The woman still didn't have her eyes open but he extended a warm hand to her, "Come with me?"

She nodded, a subconscious movement as she reached for his hand. He took it and recalled them both.

The duo appeared within the Peverell Manor's Dream projection, where Harry had begun with a magical fire to increase the ambient energy by adding fire-attuned magic. The flames started to spark and reach out to her, the Mother of Dragons, as if her very soul called for it. He watched the sight with a bit of fascination.

She had to be the most interesting person he had seen since coming to this world.

~~o0o~~

Daenerys Targaryen was cold. She felt wrong like something was feeding on her very lifeforce, stealing away precious bits of her being. Yet, when the warmth came, it felt so good that the memories of the cold were quickly forgotten.

Her eyes opened to a strangely vibrant sky, turquoise and purple gas swirled through a twinkling sea of stars. She didn't feel her body, nor the need to breathe like she was in some sort of...Dream.

"Hello there," A strangely accented voice said.

Daenerys turned to see two glowing green eyes peering at her over the lip of a stylized cup of sorts. The man had dark hair, as glossy as obsidian, that went down to his shoulders. His skin was a clear and healthy white with a powerful square jaw. His lithe frame seemed dangerous, even if just sitting and drinking tea.

"Where am I?"

"Ah, forgive me, but you are still dreaming. Do you know much about the World of Dreams?"

Her eyebrows creased at his strange accent, but it felt so refined to her ears that she couldn't help but think she was staring at some form of nobility.

"Forgive me again," He stood and performed a perfect bow, "Hadrian Peverell, Wizard. Might I know your name, Lady of Fire and Blood?"

"Hadrian Peverell. Is wizard your title?"

"No," He said, "I am a Wizard, but that isn't my title."

"And why did you call me that?" She asked.

"Why did I call you Lady of Blood and Fire?"

She nodded.

"Well, that is what you are, is it not?" He shrugged, sitting back down in an equally plush chair to her own. "I don't know who you are, but in the Dream, our magic shows who we are."

She emanated skepticism, taking a closer look at him. He looked like a man in black and green robes and armor, strange looking, perhaps even slightly ethereal but no less intimidating. The edges of his form were hard to discern as black smoke and green light billowed from his very being.

It made her heart race in recognition of what it was.

Death.

There was more to it as well, including fire and something not exactly like a dragon, "What are you?"

"I am a human, though different from the normal kind. I am a magical being and it is my training that makes me a Wizard."

"I see," it was her turn to shake her head. Daenerys briefly looked around, a gorgeous moonlit lake that could just be another night sky with how perfectly calm it was. A long waterfall in the distance and it was then she realized they had to be on some sort of balcony looking over the area.

She felt his gaze on her, "Forgive me, I am Daenerys Targaryen."

"Not a witch?"

"No, I am no Witch, nor Red Priest."

"But you have so much magic about you, even something familiar...draconic perhaps?" Hadrian asked. Of course, he knew this already but wanted to hear it from her.

She immediately tensed, not her body but her inner self-image within the Dream. It flickered like she was pulled into unconsciousness.

Harry put his hands up, "Whoa, I don't mean any harm, I just have a bit of dragon about me as well. Well, it's more snake actually. I was bitten by a Basilisk you see."

She stared at him confused for a long while. Not taking her suspicious and defensive gaze off of him until she saw movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. The word 'draconic' came to mind once again, spoken internally with Hadrian's voice.

Daenerys stood for the first time, realizing that she didn't physically stand up, but was just standing a moment later. Not only that, she was at the railing without having taken a single step.

A massive draconic form, larger than all of her dragons combined, dove from the sky and fully submerged into the large lake.

"Jormandeza, the Cerulean Scythe. A Norwegian Ridgeback," Hadrian said with an amused yet loving tone in his voice. "This place is the Peverell Manor, but it is an entire pocket dimension that also projects a warded bubble into the local Dream. Jormandeza here, is magical enough to exist in both the physical and the Dream. Most magical creatures can manifest like that."

"It has four legs?" Daenerys couldn't help herself. That shouldn't have been her first question, which should have been 'How the hell do you have a dragon?'

But it came out all the same.

He nodded, "Mhm, she is a true dragon, meaning she has four legs and is getting quite up there in age."

"My dragons do not have forelegs like that."

"Mmmm, they are wyverns then."

"What is that?"

"Uhh, a wyvern is a type of dragon that shares a bloodline with certain types of hydras. Of course, hydras are earthbound and unable to fly on account of having wings. That being said, the many-headed hydra is unparalleled at regeneration and growth. They can sometimes even form different elementally attuned heads-"

He was cut off with a hand, "I'm sorry. You said a hydra was a many-headed dragon without wings, did you not?"

"Uhh, that is a way of putting it I suppose," Hadrian replied.

Daenerys' mind immediately went to the symbol of her house, nearly gasping as a small flag formed in her hands.

"And tell me, Sir Hadrian Peverell, what would you consider this?"

She held up the Targaryen symbol, a three-headed dragon with wings, as it was known to her.

He seemed to smile, "Yes! A perfect example of the lineage of a wyvern, is it not? The wings and power of a dragon, yet it also has the many heads and unparalleled growth of a hydra."

"Where do you see unparalleled growth?" She asked, looking at the flag to spot where he saw things.

"Uhh, well do you know the symbol for infinity? Matter of fact, how are you in arithmancy? Or sorry what was the muggle word, yes, mathematics?"

He was some sort of scholar she thought, using words that even she, with a relatively decent education, didn't recognize. "Forgive me, but no, I have been taught a bit of numbers, if that is what you are referring to."

"I see. Well, do you understand the concept of infinity? Something that continues forever, it isn't a precise number because it is infinitely growing. So much so that we call the concept of unlimited and boundless growth, infinity. That is often depicted as this symbol," Hadrian said, drawing a finger through the air.

A green sideways 8 appeared, the symbol of infinity.

"You see, it never ends and never will end. It is never static but a concept. But if we were to look at your image once again," He gestured to the flag, it was now floating next to the symbol of infinity.

With another gesture, the symbol moved and lined up with the lower left side of the flag. The tail of the dragon-hydra curled twice, into a crooked version of infinity.

She gasped as if never noticing this before, "That is incredible. Wyverns..." She shook her head, "Is there anything that you can tell me about raising them?"

"Raising them, oh?! You are the Mother of Dragons!" Hadrian declared.

"Or is it the mother of Wyvern's?" Daenerys challenged smirk in place.

Hadrian smiled back at her, "I doubt anyone will mind you retaining the name as is."

Daenerys smiled at the handsome wizard, containing knowledge beyond anything she had experienced. He wasn't creepy like the Warlocks of Qarth, who wanted to entrap her, he seemed realistic and upfront.

If she could use this man to learn more about her children, then why not? Anything to help them grow and keep themselves safe, "I am the Mother of Dragons and I have found that raising dragons is becoming quite difficult. What do you know of it?"

"Uhh, well, I haven't actually raised a dragon before, but I have hatched one! Another Norwegian Ridgeback in fact," He nodded to Jormandeza. She was dipping in and out of the water, enjoying the cool feeling on her scales.

She didn't say anything and he looked at her and realized he didn't fully answer.

"Oh, well, wyverns want to grow, so make sure you don't put them in a cage. I know a bit about finding a good domain point for dragons, but I can search my library a bit. I know there has to be some stuff about wyverns in there."

Daenerys looked disappointed, "Domains...I feel like I can learn so much about them from you. How do I know if I will ever see you again?"

"Well, you just need to awaken a bit more of your magical power I would guess. The more control you have over your magic, the more power your will can demonstrate within the dream realm. The more awake you are, the more power you control inherently."

"How do I do that?"

"Hmmm, just looking at your aura, fire is the superior affinity, though you have a fair amount of blood and draconic magical affinities along with it. I would be careful, but surround yourself with fire as often as you can. They say submerging yourself in the atmospheric magic of your chosen type is quite a powerful tool to begin to awaken your affinity for it. Tell me, have you cast any accidental spells or magic of any kind?"

Daenerys could only think of one event. The single event in which she hatched dragons, "I believe so."

She didn't elaborate, "Well, you don't have to talk about it, not a problem. There are all sorts of types, like once I accidentally made a window disappear, causing my fat cousin to fall through. But something like that will do the trick, magic just keeps flowing the more you use it. I could always enchant a few Flame-Freezing Charmed necklaces or something so you can experiment without getting burnt."

"That won't be necessary. I have no problems with flames, but I guess I have avoided fully bathing in them," It had been a while since she had bathed in fire.

Harry laughed, "Dragons huh?"

She turned and finally felt comfortable enough to laugh, as he missed what darkened her thoughts, "Sure, dragons."

The two spent what felt like not enough time speaking before they felt the time within the dream coming to an end, "How do I contact you, Hadrian Peverell?"

"Hmmm, I suppose I could send you a speaking mirror, which lets us communicate directly, over any distance," he said with a smirk.

A smirk that she liked way too much.

"I will be expecting one then," Daenerys said a strangely pleased smile on her face.

And without thinking of how she did it, she woke up. Perhaps something to do with will. She left a flabbergasted Hadrian who had suddenly been all too captivated by those glowing purple eyes.

"Oh, you are already awake my lady," Missendei said.

"I am, Missendei. We need to prepare for our arrival at Yunkai," Daenerys replied, having found incredible amounts of energy to go about her day.

~~o0o~~

Back in Westeros, Jaime Lannister found himself running back to where he left her. The blasted woman was too damn good to be left to die like that. He found her fighting a bear with a wooden sword. In a dress of all things, humiliation and death in one disgusting act.

He turned, the sick fuck who cut off his hand was laughing, "What a pathetic performance."

"A wooden sword? You gave her a wooden sword?" Jaime asked, barely holding his rage back.

"We only got one bear," Locke said with a shrug. His scarred face was gaunt and cold, taking perverse pleasure in Brienne's suffering.

"I'll play whatever the price. Gold, sapphires, whatever you want. Just get her out of there!"

Locke shook his head, reveling in Jaime's anger, "You Lords and Ladies still think that the only thing that matters is gold."

Locke grabbed his stubbed arm, "This makes me happier than all your gold ever could," He pointed down at the pit, "That makes me happier than all of her sapphires. So go buy yourself a golden hand, and FUCK YOURSELF WITH IT!"

Jamie had enough of that and jumped into the ring. The bear had just slashed Brienne twice, it was looking like it was about to finish her.

"Get behind me!"

"I don't need your-" She was interrupted when the air vibrated from the growl from the bear, so loud that it echoed through the wooden arena.

It stalked closer and as it was about to attack, a bolt from a crossbow appeared in the neck of the bear. Not enough to kill it, but certainly enough to make it rethink its strategy.

"What are you doing!?" Locke yelled at the guard.

"Lord Bolton tasked me with bringing him to King's Landing! That's what I'm gonna do!" The Bolton guard said.

Jamie forced Brienne to climb up and the Bolton soldiers helped her before helping Jamie. They barely made it out.

Things were going to come to a fight again, Locke wanting to put the Lannister back in his place. But too many people with power were waiting for Jamie to make it back to King's Landing. Brienne made it out with him, bloody and tired.

They headed to King's Landing with a Bolton escort.