Chapter Text
A New Player In The Game
Chapter 1
"Egon, warn everyone, someone has just crossed the wards," Harry called out to the young lad he had working for him, his squire, although he didn't do even half of what was required of squires and didn't come from a highborn or noble family. Harry had never cared about that, he helped when he could (aware he couldn't help everyone) but he did try.
Egon didn't do anything pathetic like gape at Harry in shock, but he did go offline for two seconds before jerking into action. He immediately made for the trunk, to inform them that they would need to remain in there until someone retrieved them, before returning to the keep himself. He very rarely left Harry's side, "I wonder who it is?" he asked in curiosity, there had been no plans for anyone to come. As if he could see through walls and find out who was coming swifter.
"We'll know soon enough," Harry commented, "Now back to breaking your fast," he refused to allow anyone to go without at least three meals a day, even as a 'punishment' he knew using his life examples here was stupid. However, he couldn't cease a lifetime of habits just because the world he'd ended up in just happened to be primitive compared to his first 'life' so to speak. He found other ways to punish them, usually just chores they hated the most quadrupled.
"My Lord! My Lord! It's the crowned Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen!" an older man with blonde hair and green eyes – a bastard of the Lannister family – proclaimed. Harry had tried to break him off his need to be so formal, but failed at every turn. He was used to working for mercurial Lords, and did not wish to jeopardise such a prosperous job. He was making almost twice the amount for this job than his previous one. It was little wonder he preferred keeping it professional even now. Despite seeing for himself that Lord Peverell was far from Mercurial as one could get. He was a rare generous soul in the world.
"Thank you, Tyson," Harry answered, curious himself, now why would the Princess be here? He had never ventured into red keep, instead had no need for politics and sucking up to the king for power, he had his own. He could do whatever he liked; he needed no crown for that. Anyone that flocked towards the keep and spent time in the kings company wanted something, money, power, political gain, he couldn't stand that sort of shit. "Have some bread and salt set aside for their arrival, and perhaps some pomegranate juice."
"At once, My Lord," Tyson agreed, and begun immediately, he was firm in the belief one should get things done instead of waiting. The potion he got every morning enabled him to do so. Before coming here, he'd had such bad backache he feared that he wouldn't be able to work for much longer, causing him unending concern for his wife and twins, a daughter and a son, who weren't quite of age to work yet. Now he had actual savings, his family had a roof over their heads, and he wasn't in pain and had retained a job for years. Never once had he been made to feel lesser, or threatened by his Lord for his 'mercy' as the others loved to do every other week. Not just that he got time off to spend with his family, and his Lord was amazing with his family, treated them well, spoke to them, entertained them and even encouraged them to learn to fight. His little girl was learning to fight, and she was good, it wasn't the Westerosi way. Yet he didn't care, if she could protect herself, then it would be a weight off his shoulders. He didn't seem to see gender; he didn't think she was lesser for being a woman. Every single girl and women adored the ground Harry walked on for that alone.
"And eat, Tyson, don't think I didn't notice you not breaking your fast with us," Harry commented as he got up, before Tyson could each for it, Harry's magic had it floating through the air, and cleaning itself.
"As my Lord commands," Tyson replied, seeing the eye roll but ignoring it, his lips twitching into a tiny smile, surprised despite himself that his absence had been noticed. His wife had been unwell, and he'd been tending to her.
Lord Jaehaerys 'Harry' Peverell stood at attention, waiting for the crowned Princess Rhaenyra Targeryen to make her appearance. He shouldn't be waiting too long, since he could feel them approaching. The first sign of her was the two horses that rode towards Harry's keep, she wasn't alone, she had her personal guard (he presumed) with her and she did not look very pleased.
He didn't need to read her mind to deduce what was likely bothering her, he could barely stand any of the lords of Westeros himself. The pompous display of pageantry and politics had never been his calling. He rarely – if ever – had anything to do with politics, the Red Keep or the crown. He stayed under the radar and that was how he liked it, spending his time helping people. It was boring staying with the gods, it was just the same conversations over and over again, so he liked to mix with humanity. He was the only one who still could.
Harry observed the two, as they dismounted, his gaze naturally taking in the Valyrian beauty, he'd heard she was coined the 'Realms delight' and he agreed wholeheartedly. She was absolutely stunning, even with the sheer frustration that bubbled under the surface of her calm façade. "Princess Rhaenyra, welcome to Peverell keep. I am Lord Harry Peverell, well met." Bowing in a show of deference, far deeper than the ones she was used to. She truly was breathtaking. His long black hair braided, and tied with some sort of thin material at the end of his hair.
Rhaenyra was pleasantly surprised, the easy respect he had given her. It wasn't normal in her experience, especially since she became her father's heir. "Thank you, my wheelhouse lost a wheel on the way here, and one of our horses has become lame." If not for those two instances, she would have been well on her way back home to the Red Keep and be done with this farce.
"I see, where are they stopped?" Harry enquired easily, he could sense a break in the timeline, someone somewhere had interfered. A god, a Valyrian god, they'd brought them his way. Hmm, interesting, just what were they up to? Staring straight at her one eye green the other a very familiar shade of purple.
It was the guard that interjected, informing him that they were stopped just before his lands. Which explains why he'd only ever felt the two of them entering his property and thus his wards.
Harry nodded his understanding, "Jamie!" he called out into the castle, "I'll get someone to retrieve your things and fix the wheel so you can be on your way." He explained to Rhaenyra giving her a small smile in reassurance.
Rhaenyra inclined her head in thanks, pleased thus far, how many old men were going to proposition her here? Or boys not yet old enough to be considered. Stepping into his keep, he gestured for them to help themselves, giving them guest rights, bread and salt, and pomegranate juice. Cole was very surprised to taste it, it was very rare to find it in Westeros, in drink form especially. He had expected watered down wine, but this pleased him immensely. Food was something he'd missed of his homeland when he left for Westeros.
Jamie came striding through the kitchen door, "You called, my Lord?" he would never do Harry the disservice of being unpolite to him, especially while he had guests. They had all agreed they would never let any Lord or Lady that came by think he was soft and didn't appreciate tradition. So, while they were less professional when they were on their own, except a few, when guests were present, it was utter professional, always, no exceptions.
"Ah, Jamie, the Princess retinue has been stalled at the walkway, take the horse cart, and two additional carts to retrieve the horse, people and luggage." Hopefully whatever the gods had done to interfere, wouldn't have him needing to put down a lame horse. Not that it got wasted, nothing got put away if there was a possibility of using it. Bones became weapons, innards and meat got used, even the skin of certain animals got used.
"Shall I take Egon and Bethany, My Lord?" Jamie enquired, no hesitance in his question.
Harry hummed, "Take Ellyn as well,"
Jamie inclined his head, before he took off without another word.
"Would you like for me to show you around? Or would you prefer some tea whilst you wait on the rest of your attendants?" Harry enquired, well aware that most women weren't giving even the slightest choices in life. Even a crowned princesses didn't have any say in their lives, if anything their 'duty' made it worse. At least the smallfolk had a say in who they married for the most part. Keeping his casual demeanour, hands clasped behind his back, a step away at all times as was proper, although her personal guard certainly wasn't being. There was a reason for that.
"A dragon pit isn't on the list of areas you wish to show me, is it?" Rhaenyra asked, just a tad on the sarcastic side, beginning to walk out of the keep, silently indicating that she would prefer to be shown around. She'd spent too long in the saddle, and her legs felt a little too numb, so a walk would do her well before a bath.
Harry laughed, "No, not at all, but a pit isn't exactly the best place for a dragon, they don't do well stuffed underground without sunlight." A frown marring his features as he thought of the one, he had set free from the pits in Gringotts a lifetime ago…okay, maybe a couple of lifetimes ago. It was only a third of the size it should have been, scales white having never known a single gleam of sunlight in its life. It brought him such sorrow thinking of it.
His comment pleased Rhaenyra immensely, she loved nothing more than her dragon.
Cole twitched at the pronouncement but remained alert for any danger to the princess.
"Have you ever seen one?" Rhaenyra asked, as they walked, she took in the sights, finding it odd without the constant hustle and bustle of servants. Although, she did hear the sounds of horses on the move from wherever they were.
"A dragon?" Harry queried, glancing at Rhaenyra, "I've seen a few." Amusement suffusing his voice. A few indeed, Norbert, the four nesting mothers, the one under Gringotts, unfortunately, he'd seen none of the dragons here. He did not venture near court, he had no desire to play in the political arena, although, could it be considered politics when he could see their minds and all their schemes laid bare? Although, considering someone was guiding her to him, perhaps it might happen in the very near future.
"Mayhaps my uncles dragon?" Rhaenyra queried, pride and happiness coating her voice as she spoke of him.
Harry hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing, he couldn't very well tell her the truth, now, could he? At least not yet, he would need to find out why the gods had interfered as soon as possible. It's not like magic was something unknown to those of Valyrian descent. Their lineage was steeped in it, Valyria was a testament to the lengths they'd gone, and then some. Then again, considering what he knew the family was basically Westerosi now, they'd long since abandoned their Valyrian roots.
The castle and the grounds were immense, with many properties (including barracks). Every single person under his command knew about his magic. They weren't even getting to see the half of it really, and that's the way it would remain, especially since he couldn't trust them.
"The women learn to fight?" Cole asked judgementally, staring at the group ahead, all practicing their archery as they rode on horseback. Both male and females, all dressed in armour, and all very well cared for. They had swords strapped to their waist, while they took aim with their crossbows, and unbeknown to them, they also had daggers and knives strapped to their calves, in their boots or secreted away in various other places. The arrows met their target with dedicated precision. Every single one of them, even the women Cole noticed with disbelief.
"People without swords can still die upon them." Harry said bluntly, "Do I not detect a hint of Dornish in your appearance? A strong women shouldn't intimidate you, Ser…"
Cole straightened, eyes narrowing in displeasure but he knew better than to say anything, "Ser Criston Cole," he said nothing further, merely stepping back, giving the two room to interact with one another even if it didn't sit well with him. Especially seeing that Rhaenyra was beginning to look intrigued in a way that he'd never seen before. Not even with him. Didn't she see that he was playing her? It was the crown she wanted, the throne, to be king. He wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't had something to do with the…but no, he'd seen the accident occur, nothing devious about it. He just disliked the man because he held Rhaenyra's attention.
Delight lit up Rhaenyra's face at the comment, as she watched with no small amount of envy as these women were able to fight without enduring any mocking for their 'un-lady-like' behaviour. She wanted that life, to know how to fight, how to be a knight. She wanted to be that strong. She noted that everyone that they passed was very respectful and very well dressed.
"What are your favourite weapons, Princess?" Harry asked her, as they walked away from the group practicing, keeping a good distance mostly due to the horses. They weren't shooting arrows in their direction after all, so it was nothing to be concerned with. Genuinely curious to know more about the girl the gods had guided to him.
"I was never taught to wield anything," Rhaenyra answered, a scowl crossing her featured before her masks were back up and firmly in place. She did see the look of incredulity that was written across Harry's face with some sense of satisfaction. Perhaps if her uncle had been present for longer periods of time, she mayhaps would have been able to talk him into teaching her. If anyone would have gone against her father's orders it would have been him.
"Have you any desire to?" Harry asked her, disgusted, they had become far more Westerosi than he'd realised, not teaching their Princesses to fight? To protect themselves? Merlin, help them if they were ever attacked.
A genuine, small wistful smile appeared on her face, "When I was younger, I had the desire to be a knight." She confessed. Gazing at the glass houses, that were a beehive of activity, people going in and out, she startled, just a little seeing familiar white hair. Dragonseed, they usually lived on Dragonstone or Driftmark. Then again, she'd noticed the purple in Harry's eyes. He had Valyrian heritage.
"It's never too late to learn," Harry commented, wholly serious, it was quite frankly odd to be in the presence of women that would need protecting. The women he knew – as a human – and as a god were strong warrior women that didn't need the protection of men. He didn't see women as lesser beings, he saw them as equals, perhaps it was the way he'd been raised, or the time he'd been raised in that allowed him to do so. He was grateful for that, the very idea of looking down at women was disgusting and abhorrent.
"If we betrothed, would you want heirs?" Rhaenyra asked, trying to catch him off-guard.
"Not right away," came the immediate response, "Any wife I have will be a few name days older than you before I would consider any children." she was still young, not young enough that it would cause immeasurable damage. Giving her an enquiring look, he didn't believe for a second, she wished to betroth to anyone, well, with one exception.
His response surprised her immensely, "My mother was younger than I am now when she had me." wondering if he was for real, he seemed completely made up.
A look of sorrow flashed through Harry's green and purple eyes, "Let me guess, she was never able to give birth to a healthy child afterward?"
"How could you…" Rhaenyra asked startled.
"She was too young, your mother Aemma had growing still to do, her womb hadn't finished growing along with the rest of her, her pregnancy will have destroyed her womb and made future healthy babes impossible." Sympathy suffusing him, never pity.
"Are you a Maester?" she asked, her stomach twisting unpleasantly as she thought on her poor mother.
"I am not," Harry replied shuddering a little at the very idea of being compared to them. They were so primitive compared to his abilities thank you very much. "Should you wish to learn there's beginner lessons every morning at five." Gesturing towards the training grounds. Not that she'd be here long enough to learn, but one lesson would help her know whether it was something she desired or not.
Harry gestured for Rhaenyra towards the table and chairs. Once they got closer, a tea tray was situated in the middle. Then to Rhaenyra's shock, he begun to pour them himself, Lord's very rarely lifted a finger for themselves. They even needed their wine poured for them at council meetings. Tyson just gave them a kind smile before he left.
"This is honey and lemon tea, it's very refreshing, I find." Harry explained, as he set one in front of her. His heart beginning to ache for her as her future became known to him. What the future held for her without his interference, six years of happiness only to die by dragon flame. She hadn't made it easy for herself though. She'd made the best of her lot in life, but in doing so doomed her reign. Her father had a lot to answer for. Making her his heir and doing absolutely nothing for her? fool.
"Tell me princess, do you truly desire to sit on the throne?" Harry asked her quietly, staring at the young woman pensively. Even in his time she was more or less an adult. Free to move out of home, have children, smoke and drink.
Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes, a stubborn jut of her chin raising up, "Yes," she was the heir, and until her father decided otherwise, she would remain so.
"Then why have you pissed off every single Lord you've managed to visit?" Harry asked sounding amused not judgemental or pissed off. "They are regretfully important to have on your side when you take up the position as Queen."
"I am my father's heir," Rhaenyra bit out.
"You understand that the vows they make are just that, words?" Harry leaned forward a serious look on his face. "You will have to work as twice as hard as your predecessors just because you weren't born with a cock between your legs. Your father has made things very difficult for you by remarrying and having a male heir. They will be expecting him to make that boy his heir, fortunately, he will never change his mind but it doesn't change facts. You cannot be a pacifist; you need to fight for everything you want." And this girl she was a pacifist, spent too much of the war wanting a peaceful resolution, even after the death of her son. Too much like her father and grandfather, bowing to the whims of Westerosi people.
Rhaenyra's heart sped up just hearing that, she knew, deep in her soul that he was being honest. He didn't seem to have any doubts that she would be queen. It was an exhilarating feeling; one she hadn't been able to share with anyone. The only one she'd wanted to share it with wasn't here, he'd been banished yet again by her father. "You know my father?"
Harry grimaced, "No, not personally, I don't normally care for politics, I see no point to begging a monarch for a scrap of attention, competing with the rest of the vipers just to garner some power, there's hardly an honest lot amongst them." He had no need to beg or plead, he had more power than even the king could possibly conceive. More power in his pinkie let alone entire body.
"Excuse me, My Lord, the Princesses people have arrived, the Princesses bath has been prepared, and her luggage is being brought to Vhagar's apartments," Tyson informed him. Harry had named the guest apartments after the Valyrian gods, he also had a room of worship for all fourteen Valyrian gods. Whatever this 'seven' was, none of them existed, not of this world. The Valyrian gods however did, and thus, he honoured them.
Rhaenyra was very overwhelmed by how pleasant it was. She'd had to ensure all of sundry telling how good a wife she'd be if they married. Listing of what they considered the best of their attributes, like it meant anything to a dragon Lady, a princess of the realm. This man hadn't even attempted to entice her, was perfectly polite and he was perfect…she had so much she wanted to ask him.
Harry stood, "I hope you join me for an evening meal, tonight, Princess," taking her hand he kissed it, "Until then, I hope you enjoy your short stay here." Once again bowing before her, now that had taken a lot of getting used to, once upon a time, his only experience had been Voldemort forcing his compliance.
"If you would follow me, Princess," Tyson murmured with utmost respect, bowing low before guiding her towards Vhagar apartments, it was the biggest and best of all the rooms (except the Lord and Lady rooms naturally) in the keep. It was only natural that they gained the name Vhagar, the queen of all the rooms.
The corridor leading up to the rooms was bustling with activity, as Rhaenyra's ladies in waiting guided the other servants on where to put the luggage. For the first time since she begun this damnable tour, she felt excitement thrumming through her like a humming bird. Ignoring everyone, she moved through to the privy, the sight of the bath, with still steaming water pleased her, her ladies in waiting burst through, already getting her oils and such out and ready for her use. "I want my Black courting gown out." She informed the ladies as she undressed behind the partition. "Black matching jewellery set."
The ladies squealed, all atwitter at her words, "He's so beautiful, isn't he?" they couldn't help but gush, they'd seen him for only a second and from the window. "He's definitely Valyrian isn't he?" those eyes, they were identical to Queen Alysanne, the mother of King Viserys and Prince Daemon, Rhaenyra's mother.
"To some degree," Rhaenyra declared, the purple eye denotes at least some Valyrian heritage, but the names of the apartment? Denoted a devotion to the Valyrian gods. Her uncle followed the Valyrian gods, and he had taught her everything she knew, despite her father's love of their history, they didn't really talk about his passion for it. Whenever they spoke, it was for duty, he'd all but abandoned her to the vipers while cavorting with Alicent.
"Oh! Lovely, they've brought up a platter of food to eat! It smells divine!" was called through from the main room, all of them chatting happily, on the dresses they want to wear, how warm the rooms were, how tidy and clean. Making decisions to write home to their families, especially if Rhaenyra didn't want him, if she didn't, they definitely wanted a chance with him.
"Maybe there's something wrong with him?" a sly malicious laugh, as she thought of all the things he could have wrong with him.
"He does look a bit old not to already be married!" they'd noticed the lack of lady to welcome them or Rhaenyra.
To be fair they hadn't planned to be here, they had broken down, and he had been kind enough to take them in, and care for them until they could get back on the road. None of them thought of that though, spoiled as they were, believing they had a right to things, kept as naïve as possible by their families.
"Maybe he's already been widowed? He could have a son; we don't know everything. I haven't even heard of the last name Peverell, but the grandness of this place…they must have a fortune!" Elinda Massey pointed out, "I wonder if my father will know anything about him." it would be good to have ties to such prominent families, she'd need to find out more so that her father would have something to offer them or see if this man had something to offer her father. They'd learned all the families of note in Westeros, learnt all the coat of arms, the sigils so they didn't accidentally cause offense to a big house. Perhaps if she could get a peek at it, she might remember.
That declaration quietened them down, and Rhaenyra frowned, wondering if that was a possibility. Shaking off her thoughts, she abruptly stood, and she soon was attended to by her ladies maids. She wasn't close to them, didn't confide in them, once bitten twice shy and all that, after Alicent. She couldn't even think her name without it souring her mood completely.
"Alright, what on earth are you guys up to?" Harry uttered, entering the alter room, there were fourteen pillars, one for each of the Valyrian gods. "What do you need?" closing his eyes, 'Wowing' as he did so, the unpleasant feeling of the gods speaking to him through his mind. It gave him a horrendous headache. It also drained him a bit, they were using his own magic to communicate with him. Pressing his hand against one of the stone pillars, inhaling sharply, his mind trying to make sense of what he'd been shown.
"You want me to what?" Harry asked incredulously, "Why?"
More images assailed him.
"You can obviously do magic, why not just stop it yourself?"
Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the stone pillar, being shown more than just Rhaenyra's fate should the dance begin. The hundreds up hundreds of thousands of deaths that could otherwise be prevented. Men and women with important lives ahead of them, that would advance the world further than it already was. Way to try and manipulate him into this.
Then Balerion spoke, "We gave a child the gift of dragon dreams in hopes that it would save the Targaryen's, we cannot interfere physically with their lives, and we are not allowed to descend to the mortal realm. We couldn't even if Valyria herself was rejuvenated and restored. Will you help them?" it was pure luck they'd managed to interfere as much as they had in getting the girl to him in the first place.
"Oh, I'm going to help her alright, she's going to be the best bloody queen since Queen Elizabeth the second!" Harry declared, alright, sue him, he felt for her with a father like Viserys. He felt a sense of gratitude suffuse him, a silent thank you from the Valyrian gods, as their presence faded from the room, having done what was intended.
He had no idea he was going to be right there alongside her for the entire duration of her reign and he wasn't going to be alone.
Without the need of a Dragon Dreamer, the gods mercilessly took the gift back, and the growing foetus that would have been Helena Targaryen with it, causing Alicent Targaryen to miscarry. If Harry could save the Targaryen's, then it would be worth it, even if he didn't, the possibility was enough, the gods didn't care much for humans, on the whole yes, but individual ones whether they prayed to them or not? No.
Harry had a far better chance than Helena Targaryen. How could one compare a god to a dreamer? It was simple they could not.
*beats a hasty and strategic retreat for posting yet another story* sorry!