CH3 Diplomacy, field trips and romance

233 AC. Dol Guldur.

They were having guests over again, a three man hunting party from a nomadic clan this time that had gotten caught in a blizzard out in the Haunted Forest. Luna had felt sorry for them and offered them shelter in the tower.

Harry had rolled his eyes in exasperation, but didn't really care. He was well used to his wife's compassion.

At least they weren't as dumb as Borol had been. Aside from being a little skittish about magic, they were as courteous as fur-clad barbarians could be.

That was actually very courteous. To quote from Robert E. Howard, 'civilized men are more discourteous than savages, because they know they can be impolite without having their skulls split, as a general thing.'

His contemplations were interrupted when a raven flew into the dining room and landed on his shoulder.

"Blasted birds." Adrastia muttered discontently, which made him grin.

He knew she hated the fact that his ravens and crows could fly into the tower as they pleased.

"What is it?" Harry asked the big black bird.

The raven croaked out a response that only he could clearly understand, although Luna was also able to discern the gist of it.

"Oh?" Harry's eyebrow rose. "They moved faster than anticipated."

"You mean those rangers from the Night's Watch?" Adrastia asked.

"Yes, they'll be here in three days if they continue their current pace." Harry answered, standing up with the raven still on his shoulder.

"There's crows comin' here?" The leader of their guests asked, a burly man with hair and beard more grey than brown. He was obviously none too fond of the Night's Watch if his tone was any indication. "What do they want?"

"I imagine that they just about shat themselves because of my tower." Harry smirked as the free folk hunting party laughed in response. "The group currently coming towards us has orders to investigate and kill us if possible."

"We'd be happy to help you fight 'em." The man declared, to raucous agreement from his fellows.

"No need." Harry waved off. "They aren't a threat of any kind and you need to get back to your clan anyway."

The man nodded reluctantly, clearly disappointed at missing an opportunity to kill a few 'crows' as they called the black brothers.

Harry kind of disliked that actually. He was quite fond of crows and didn't want them being used as an insult.

"Where are you going?" Luna asked.

"I'm just going to scare them a bit." Harry smirked again. "Don't worry, I'll be back in time for desert."

"Okay."

He walked out of the room with the raven still perched on his shoulder. Up and up they went, across multiple halls and stairways of the magically expanded interior of the tower. Harry could have easily stepped outside to one of the balconies and flown up, but walking had honestly become a bit of a habit over the past hundred years. Plus, it was good exercise. Never skip leg day.

When they finally reached the top of the tower, the raven flew off with one final croak and Harry smiled as he took a deep breath of the frigid air.

This was an even better spot than the one at his old tower in Greenland. He could see so much. The deep and wide Milkwater to the west and the Frostfangs further in the distance. The great expanse of the haunted Forest to the south, east and north. The hills and clearings and snowy plains. It was a beautiful place.

And the Greensight extended his vision far beyond what mere physical senses allowed. The Wall was too far south to see with eyes alone, but he saw it still.

Taking another deep breath and closing his eyes, he connected to the weirwoods below. It was a little difficult from this distance, but the presence of the Old Gods was everywhere and he was strong.

Soon enough he had it and an image formed in his mind's eye, seen through the weirwoods. A party of four men clad completely in black skulking through the forest at a steady pace.

"So, Bloodraven, you thought you could outpace my attention?" He said portentously, trying not to sound too amused. "And when that fails, what then will you do?"

Harry took his staff out from hammerspace. It was dead and useless in this world, but that wasn't the point. The point was to make a proper reference and he needed a staff to do that.

With his robe flapping about in the cold wind, he raised his arms up and began chanting.

"Cuiva, nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar!"

His voice boomed with magical enhancement, carried towards the approaching black brothers on a fierce wind.

XXXXX

Haunted Forest.

Brynden suddenly stopped, crouching low to the ground. His fellow rangers followed his example.

"What is it?" One of them asked quietly. He was a good man, one who had fought at his side for many years during the Blackfyre rebellions and chosen to follow him to the Wall.

Brynden just opened his mouth to reply when it happened.

A fierce wind ripped through the trees, throwing snow into their faces. And with it came the voice, deep and powerful.

"Cuiva, nwalca Carnirassë! Nai yarvaxëa rasselya taltuva ñotto-carinnar!"

As an albino, Brynden couldn't get any more pale, but the dread on his face was plain to see as he turned to his men.

"The sorcerer knows we are here." He said with resignation.

Brynden wondered what he should do now. The wise thing would be to retreat back to Castle Black, but then they would have accomplished nothing and the Night's Watch was in dire need of information on this new threat.

His expression firmed. "No matter, we press on."

The multitude of ravens and crows that were perching on the trees around them suddenly started up a cacophony of croaks that sounded disturbingly like laughter.

That didn't make them feel any better, or lower the sense that they were being watched.

XXXXX

Harry snickered to himself as he put away the staff. Of course, the words made no sense in this context, but it wasn't like any of the rangers spoke Quenya to call him out on it, nor could they possibly know that he just wanted to do a Saruman impression.

XXXXX

Three days later.

They had finally arrived, after three days of jumping at shadows. Ravens and crows had followed them every step of the way, mocking them with their croaks. The weirwoods felt watchful. Some of the men even claimed to have seen them move. The Haunted Forest had changed over the past few moons, it felt darker, closer, the air more oppressive.

Now, standing at the edge of the tree line and staring at the monstrous tower that completely dominated the rocky hill upon which the Fist of the First Men once stood, Brynden knew that any attempts to kill the sorcerer had been doomed to failure from the start. Even if he hadn't known they were coming, what were they supposed to do? Siege equipment was impossible to move beyond the Wall, not that the tower looked like it would break anyway, and scaling its smooth sides was surely impossible.

"Change of plans, men." He said. "We ask for bread and salt. Keep your hands away from your weapons."

"Is that wise?" One asked nervously. "What if he decides to kill us?"

"I suspect he could have done so already if he wished." He replied grimly, silencing any further protest.

Another surprise waited for them as they came closer. It hadn't been visible from a distance but now they could only stare in bafflement.

"A snowman?" Brynden muttered to himself, staring at the three lumps of snow piled together. It had sticks for arms, pebbles for a smiling expression and a carrot nose.

He had no idea what to think of this, so out of place it was.

While the four of them were pondering that mystery, the great doors opened with a groan of stone on stone...

...and revealed a short woman with golden hair, big blue eyes and a guileless expression. She wore a light blue dress of exquisite quality that left her shoulders bare and didn't look nearly warm enough for the True North and a pair of large, ridiculous white slippers that looked like rabbits.

She made her way down the steps with a brazen lack of fear and smiled at them dreamily.

"Hello." She said with a tone that matched her expression. "Would you like to come in?"

Brynden blinked, nonplussed. The small woman was as clean and well-groomed as any royal he'd ever seen and her dress was of matching quality even if the design was most unusual and simplistic. That would normally be enough to make him assume that she was of high status and should be treated as such, but why had she come to greet them? And alone on top of it?

Still, better to err on the side of caution.

"Good day, my lady." He offered respectfully. "I am Brynden Rivers of the Night's Watch and I was hoping to speak to the master of the tower."

"That's nice. I was hoping to have my tomatoes ready for a pizza today." She said and he wondered if he was being mocked...but her tone was that of someone simply making conversation, although he had no idea what a 'pizza' was supposed to be. Some kind of food? And how was she growing tomatoes this far north anyway? "My name is Luna."

"We could kill her." Brynden just barely heard one of his men mutter, notably not one of those that had been part of his Raven's Teeth before they came to the Wall.

"Please don't try it." Luna apparently had no problem hearing him either, although her tone was as airy and unconcerned as ever. "If you try to hurt me, Harry will turn you inside out and leave you to be eaten alive by the crows."

Brynden gave the suddenly pale man a quelling glare with his single eye before turning back to...Luna. Strange name. "Is Harry your husband, my lady?" That was a Westerosi name.

"Yes!" She replied with the beaming smile that reminded Brynden achingly of his half-sister and lover, Shiera Seastar. If only she could have been so happy at the thought of being married to him.

"Could you take us to him?" He asked politely, not allowing his feelings to show on his face. At least he had confirmation of the woman's status, although he was still baffled as to why she had come to greet them herself instead of sending a servant. Or if they had no servants, why this 'Harry' had allowed his wife to greet potentially dangerous strangers by herself.

"Okay." She...agreed? At least, Brynden assumed that's what the strange expression meant. "Follow me."

Luna twirled around and skipped back up the stairs and into the tower.

Brynden followed just a step behind, marveling at the reflective black floors that were smoother than glass and at the shining crystals hanging from the ceiling that provided light instead of torches. The Red Keep in King's Landing wasn't half as majestic.

"Did your husband build this tower all by himself?" He asked probingly.

"No, I helped."

That gave Brynden pause. If Luna was a powerful sorceress in her own right, then the mystery of why she was so fearless in the face of four armed men was explained. And she had said that if they tried to hurt her that Harry would extract gruesome vengeance against them, not if they actually did hurt her, didn't she?

As he was considering this, he became aware that the hallway they were walking through was unusually long. Although the tower was quite wide at the base, surely it wasn't this wide? And that wasn't even taking into account that the hallway still needed to connect to something.

As if to mock his thoughts, they passed by a balcony that was at least a hundred feet off the ground.

"How did we get up here?" Brynden asked in alarm.

Luna turned back to look at him with a quizzical expression. "We took the stairs."

"I recall no stairs!" He asserted.

"Of course you don't." Luna assured. "The confounding enchantment is playing tricks on your mind because you haven't been keyed into the wards."

That was as good as a confirmation that the slip of a girl was much more dangerous than she looked. To beguile their minds so easily...

Brynden was deeply unnerved and he could see that his men were as well. All of them were straining their eyes in an attempt to determine what was real and what wasn't.

He couldn't tell if it was working and decided not to waste the opportunity to ask questions in pursuit of the fruitless effort.

"Were you born beyond the Wall, my lady?" Brynden asked, hoping to determine what he was dealing with exactly.

"No, I was born in Devon." Luna replied breezily.

"I have never never heard of any place called Devon." Brynden frowned in thought. "Is it in Essos somewhere?"

"No, it's in England."

That didn't help one bit. "And where Is England?"

"The British Isles."

Alright, now they were getting somewhere. "Is that in the Jade Sea? Or perhaps among the Thousand Isles?"

"No, it's in Europe."

Or maybe not. Brynden was getting more and more baffled. Surely he should have recognized something by now? "And where is Europe?"

"On Earth."

"Earth?" He echoed. How could a region be on dirt?

"Earth." Luna nodded as if that made perfect sense, while Brynden was starting to think that she was a madwoman in addition to being a powerful sorceress. "Here we are, Harry's study."

Before he could get a word out, she pushed open the doors – without knocking or asking for permission to enter, notably – and breezed inside.

"Hello, dear." Luna said whimsically and went to give her husband a kiss on the cheek. "I brought our guests."

Brynden's hackles immediately went up when he saw the master of the tower. He was a big man with a strong build. His scarred, muscled arms were plainly in view due to the strange tunic he was wearing; black, sleeveless, thin and made of some material Brynden had never seen before, with the only adornment on it being a mocking inscription which claimed that 'a wizard did it'.

But what was really making him so tense wasn't the man's appearance or even the fact that he was reading a book that was levitating in front of him. No, it was his sheer presence.

"So I see." Harry said flatly, putting away the book and staring at them with hard emerald eyes set in a scarred face. "I was going to let them cool their heels in the cold for a while, seeing as they're here as scouts and assassins."

So, their mission truly had been doomed from the start. The sorcerer had known where they were and even why they were coming the whole time.

Brynden wondered if this was where he died. Luna hadn't felt like a threat, but her husband was another matter entirely. Maegor the Cruel would have envied the air of casual menace around him.

"That would have been rude." Luna said, either oblivious or uncaring of her husband's displeasure. Brynden admired her courage and hoped that she wouldn't suffer for it.

Harry snorted and, very much contrary to Brynden's expectations, placed a plate of bread and a bowl of salt on the table. He briefly wondered where he'd even gotten it, but the question slipped from his mind like smoke.

"You would offer us your hospitality even knowing why we came here?" He asked, surprised.

"And why did you come here?" Harry asked in a low, dangerous tone, stepping forward to loom over him threateningly. "To get the measure of me? To kill me? Or is it in truth because Sleepy Jack is quietly panicking for fear that he'll be further disgraced?"

Brynden stared back into the darkly amused emerald gaze and steeled his resolve, hiding how unnerved he was. "You are well informed."

"There are many who whisper secrets in my ear; birds, beasts, trees...a squirrel doesn't shit in these woods without me knowing about it." The sorcerer smirked and Brynden feared that he wasn't boasting or exaggerating. "Regardless, I care nothing for your petty concerns and killing me is a task far beyond your means. You can stay the night as my guests and then return to tell your lord commander whatever you want. His flailing might even provide a little amusement."

That was a clear threat wrapped in an offer and the four black brothers were quick to partake of the bread and salt to symbolically place themselves under the sorcerer's protection. A great deal of tension drained out of them now that they were safe from attack for the duration of their stay, be it by blade or magic.

"I'll show the others to their rooms while you boys talk." Luna chirped.

"Send Adrastia here too while you're at it." Harry said.

"Okay!"

"Have a seat." Harry offered, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk and Brynden took it with a nod of gratitude.

While his host moved to sit behind the large and solid desk, Brynden took a chance to look around. This 'study' was very much like a lord's solar, although so large and appointed so richly that even a king would envy it. The chair he was sitting on was incredibly comfortable, the carpet covering the reflective black floor was a deep burgundy color and of a quality that surpassed anything the Free Cities had to offer. Although lacking in decorative tapestries or any other kind of art, there was plenty of excellently made wooden furniture and even some glass cupboards. And the glass was completely transparent and smooth instead of milky and filled with bubbles like the one from Myr, which allowed Brynden to see numerous mysterious arcane items and books stored in them.

It was looking more and more likely that the sorcerer had indeed plundered Valyria, because where else could he have gotten all this? He didn't have the look of a dragonlord himself, so that was something at least.

"That's an interesting sword you've got there." Harry began, nodding towards his waist.

Brynden looked at it and briefly considered evading the unspoken question or perhaps even drawing his blade and killing the sorcerer here and now.

But no, he had broken his word when he arrested and executed Aenys Blackfyre for the good of the realm despite promising him safe conduct, which was what had gotten him sent to the Wall in the first place. One could argue that violating guest rights and slaying Harry would be the same, but doing so would surely doom him and his men to vengeance at Luna's hand. And given how confident the sorcerer was, there may be magic at play that would prevent him from succeeding anyway.

"Dark Sister, once the blade of Visenya Targaryen." He said cordially.

"Mind letting me take a closer look at it?"

That was a perfect opportunity to fish for some more information.

"You have not seen Valyrian steel before?" He asked, unbuckling his sword and handing it over the desk.

"No." Harry said absently, drawing the blade from its sheath. "Interesting work. Damascus steel ripples? Odd. Folding. Spellforging. Dragonfire..."

Brynden listened to the man's mutters with interest. If this was his first time seeing Valyrian steel, then he couldn't have been in the Doom as there was surely plenty of it there. Where did he come from then, and where did he gain his knowledge of the higher mysteries? He looked Westerosi and had a Westerosi name, yet his manner of dress was foreign.

The door behind him opened and he twisted around in his chair to see who had come. Did Harry not care at all for decorum and allow people to come and go from his solar...study...as they pleased?

Brynden blinked at the Summer Islands woman that entered. This was presumably Adrastia, but what in all the hells was a Summer Islander doing beyond the Wall?

"Found a new toy to play with?" She asked with a wicked smile and glided towards Harry seductively, sitting herself down in his lap.

Brynden was reminded of Shiera once again, but this time it was of her less admirable qualities. He hadn't seen it when he'd been a young man blindly in love, but time and distance had revealed to him that Shiera, for all her beauty and intelligence, had not been a kind woman. She'd taken delight in using her beauty and sensuality to play with men's feelings and turn them against each other in jealous rages. She had been amused by his own jealousy as well. As time had taken her beauty, her games had stopped, but the memory of them was still vivid in his mind.

This Adrastia, with her own great beauty, seductive voice, alluring eyes and tight fitting clothes that emphasized the sinful body beneath, reminded him of those parts of Shiera acutely.

"Just a sword." Harry shrugged and returned Dark Sister.

"I wasn't talking about the sword." Adrastia said with a wide smile, undressing Brynden with her eyes.

By the gods, she was exactly like Shiera at her worst.

"Of course." Harry replied drolly, clearly used to this kind of behavior from her. "This is Brynden Rivers, sometimes known as Bloodraven, ranger of the Night's Watch and novice dabbler in magic."

Brynden started in surprise. True, many had accused him of being a sorcerer, but most of it had been slander from his enemies or rumors started by smallfolk. He had kept his ability to warg a closely held secret.

"Oh?" Adrastia said, staring at him calculatingly. "Are you going to take him on as an apprentice?"

"Perhaps, if he wants to stay." Harry said idly. "It would be a shame to let the talent go to waste."

"I have sworn oaths to the Night's Watch." Brynden replied, although he couldn't deny a certain curiosity.

"You were forced to swear them, you mean." The scarred man said dryly. "But whatever, if you don't want to learn how to harness your gifts then that's your choice."

The offer to learn more magic was tempting, but Brynden wouldn't forsake his vows lightly, even ones he had been forced to take. He had broken his word once because he felt it was necessary to put an end to the Blackfyre rebellions once and for all, this time he had no such reason.

"We should discuss future relations between Dol Guldur and the Night's Watch." Adrastia spoke up.

Dol Guldur? Was that the name of this tower?

"What's there to discuss?" Harry grunted. "The Night's Watch will do what it feels it must and the same goes for me."

"Yes, but we could prevent so many unfortunate...incidents...by coming to an agreement." The dark-skinned woman argued.

Brynden wasn't sure he liked how she said that.

"What kind of agreement would you propose?" He asked.

"Nothing too onerous." She assured. "Dol Guldur will not raid or otherwise attack the Wall or anything south of it. In return, the Night's Watch will not send rangers beyond the Wall without Harry's permission."

"And you would attack the Wall and the lands south of it without such an agreement?" Brynden asked cautiously.

"Who knows?" She shrugged and wrapped her hands around Harry's neck with a grin. "My man here is rather temperamental, and has a habit of solving problems by killing them. There's no telling what he might do if the Night's Watch keeps bothering him."

Truly, Adrastia would have fit right in at the royal court with that poisonous tongue of hers. Brynden was darkly amused at the thought that you couldn't escape from politics even on the frozen roof of the world.

"Alternatively, we can just ignore each other and go about our lives like sensible adults." Harry interjected with a voice so droll that even the greatest lackwit would be able to tell that he had no faith in this happening.

"Harry, we cannot ignore our neighbours." Adrastia said in a long suffering tone.

"Fine, then Bloodraven can carry your proposal to Musgood. He'll splutter in shock for a bit and then start wondering what kind of fiendish wildling plot it is. More ranging parties will be sent and I'll either ignore them or confound them to walk in circles until they run out of food and have to turn back. If they somehow manage to piss me off I might even kill them. A few years or decades down the line, the Starks might get paranoid enough to think that sending an army at us would be a good idea, which will force me to murder them in their sleep before they even make it out of Winterfell. After that, the stupid, stubborn bastards might finally figure out that maybe , just maybe, they should have considered the deal you proposed." Harry ranted.

"Would you be amiable to speaking with Lord Commander Musgood and perhaps Lord Stark about your proposal?" Brynden asked after a few long moments of silence.

He could all too easily imagine events playing out exactly as the sorcerer described. And if he truly could see as much as he claimed, and could indeed simply murder the commanders of any army sent against him, then he was effectively unassailable. Regardless, he wasn't Hand of the King anymore and couldn't make that decision himself.

"That would be excellent." Adrastia quickly spoke up, as if she was afraid of how Harry might reply.

Perhaps justifiably so, because he glowered at her for a moment while she favored him with an incredibly fake innocent look.

"Fine, I'll talk to them, but only if they come here." The sorcerer finally said. "I'm not going to waste my time chasing you miserable cunts around and you have nothing better to do with yourselves than come here anyway."

That...would probably not go over well with either the Lord Commander or Lord Stark. Still, Brynden could see that Harry would be bent no further. Why did he even agree to it when he clearly didn't care one way or another? Adrastia seemed to be pushing him in this direction and he was letting her for some reason. Something to keep in mind.

XXXXX

"He turned me away!" Adrastia fumed as she stomped into their room late in the evening.

Harry looked on with amusement as the furious woman raged. They had just finished dinner and Adrastia had latched on to Bloodraven to 'escort' him to his room.

"This reminds me of a story I heard once." He began, suppressing a smile when he saw that he had her attention. "About a pornstar that lost her confidence after a man wasn't able to squeeze out more than a few drops of cum on her face."

Luna giggled while Adrastia glowered.

"There is nothing wrong with my confidence, thank you very much!" The dark-skinned witch said snippily. "I'm pissed because he would have been a perfect agent in the Night's Watch."

"Yes, well, judging by his surface thoughts you reminded him of a half-sister of his that he lusted after. She was a lot like you; incredibly beautiful, intelligent, manipulative, capricious and with a penchant for getting men killed. And since this woman was a royal bastard with basically zero responsibilities, she had a lot more leeway for her games than you ever did. He knew you were trouble the moment you opened your mouth."

"I see." Adrastia's rage cooled, either by the explanation or the offhand flattery. "How unfortunate. And why did you not tell me about this sooner?"

"I thought it'd be funny." Harry shrugged. "I was right."

And just like that, the rage was back, along with Luna's giggles.

"You...!" Adrastia trailed off into a glower.

Her anger truly was a sight to see. It had taken more than a decade before she became comfortable showing him her true emotions instead of the mask she showed everyone else.

"I was also in the mood for angry sex." He continued with a grin. "Strip."

XXXXX

Harry stared at the ring on his finger, the Ring of Resurrection.

After meditating on the issue for a long while, he had decided that Adrastia's suggestion had merit. He did want more wizards and witches in this world, and he was curious to see if the magic would express itself differently. Would it be like his own, local or some kind of hybrid?

Bloodraven was an albino wizard, an impossibility on Earth. He likely also did not have the naturally expanded life of an Earth style wizard, the resistance to mundane disease or the risk of accidental magic during times of stress. What he did have was a natural talent for some very specific types of magic. Skinchanging and the Greensight particularly. It came from his First Men ancestry.

Back on Earth, intrinsic differences among human ethnic groups were mostly superficial. Melanin quantities, eye shape, disease proclivity, average size, skeletal structure, bone density,...all minor things that were either only skin deep or so minute that they required careful study to spot. Some, such as average IQ, were more significant, but required a huge population sample for it to be properly seen.

Here, the differences seemed more profound and less logical, and if it wasn't logical then it pretty much had to be magical somehow.

The First Men were much closer to nature than others, although not nearly to the extent of the Earthsingers. This seemed to be more true for the free folk than the Northmen south of the Wall. Could have something to do with the density of weirwoods or it could be because there had been effectively zero mixing with the Andals north of the Wall.

The Andals had the lowest magical potential he had encountered so far. His current hypothesis was that the Seven was to blame for that. A spiritual parasite? Maybe, or maybe something else. He'd crack the secret open eventually. He always did.

There had as of yet been no opportunity to examine the Rhoynar, but it was on the agenda. Most of the Rhoynar had assimilated into Dorne's Andal culture, only one group remained relatively pure – the so-called Orphans of the Greenblood, who clung to their original Rhoynish culture, language and religion. Hopefully, studying the differences between the Orphans and the other Dornish would prove illuminating.

The Ironborn were another group that needed a look at. That Drowned God of theirs sounded like a vicious cunt, even for a god. He may in fact be part of what was driving their pirate culture. He and Adrastia had theorized that the godlings present in this world were somehow subtly influencing human behavior, which would go a long way to explaining why the continent was so damn politically and culturally stable. He had already confirmed that the Old Gods attempted to help any people within range of their influence via dreams, gut feelings and visions for those especially sensitive to such things.

But he was wool-gathering. He needed to ask Fleur and Dora what they thought of the idea of using Stone Age mating strategies on the local women.

He turned the ring three times on his finger. "Fleur and Nymphadora."

"Hey there, lover." Dora greeted with a smile on her spectral face. "Where's Luna?"

"Packing for a trip." Harry said dismissively. "I needed to run something past you girls."

"Oh, and what would that be?" Fleur asked teasingly.

He quickly explained the situation. "...so, what do you say? Is it okay to just snatch women and fuck them into submission in these circumstances?"

"The things you get up to..." Dora sighed in fond exasperation. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want more kids."

"I doubt I'll be able to love them in the same way I loved ours." Harry shrugged. "I'm too old for that, but I will take care of them and teach them."

"I say it's fine." Fleur declared. "From what you said, these women would be throwing themselves at you anyway, given half a chance, but 'stealing' them would probably make them feel more secure in the long run. If you want them, then go ahead and take them."

Dora was quiet for a while before nodding her agreement. "Just don't be too rough or keep them prisoner and I'll be satisfied."

Harry nodded. "Alright, I figured it would be like that, but I wanted to be sure."

"That's sweet of you, mon cher." Fleur said with a smile. "Until next time. We'll be waiting."

"Bye." He said with a small wave as they faded out.

Now he just had to pick out some women. Or more accurately, he had to tell Adrastia to pick out some women.

XXXXX

"Finish the work I set for you and don't play around with the forge, understand?" Harry asked sternly.

"I understand." Bragni said with a firm nod.

"Good, and don't slack off. I will check."

Nothing that required his presence was set to happen for a while, so he and Luna were going on an expedition to the ruins of Valyria. Bragni was progressing well, but he was still a dumb kid and prone to doing dumb things as a result, occasionally. Harry would not be at all surprised to come back and discover that he'd burned his hand or smashed his fingers attempting to practice blacksmithing on his own, despite all warnings not to.

Harry was keenly aware of the hypocrisy of him, of all people, telling others not to do dangerous things unsupervised, but he ignored it. There was nothing else he could do.

He moved on to Adrastia and she immediately smirked at him.

"I will have a list ready when you return." She said.

Harry nodded, feeling no need to say anything further.

Luna gave both of them a firm hug, with Adrastia being made far more uncomfortable by it, funnily enough. "We'll be back soon. Call if you need anything!"

And then they were off, zooming away at top speed on their Discs.

XXXXX

The Valyrian peninsula was thousands of miles away from Dol Guldur. The top speed of the Discs was just barely below supersonic, but it still took them more than six hours to make the trip.

Harry had been tempted to stop by the ruins of the ancient Rhoynar capital of Chroyane, destroyed by the Valyrians a thousand years ago now. It was almost directly in their way, so it wouldn't even be a detour.

Ironically, it was the serious magic he could sense from it that convinced him to leave it for another time. He didn't want to feel as if he was supposed to be somewhere else while looking it over.

It was nearly evening by the time they finally reached the wrecked peninsula. There was a permanent mass of black clouds hanging over it and their bottoms glowed orange-red because of the chain of volcanoes called the Fourteen Flames. The glow was visible long before they reached the broken Lands of the Long Summer, which was impressive even if they did see it from high above the ground.

When they at last arrived at the ruined capital – unimaginatively also called Valyria – Harry let out an impressed whistle.

"This is an evil place." Luna said with uncharacteristic somberness, edging closer to Harry for comfort.

Despite his opinions on good and evil, Harry had to agree. It wasn't the toppled and broken buildings, the shattered earth, the magma flows or even the perpetual stench of sulfur and brimstone. All of that was just scenery or a minor irritant easily taken care of with a Bubblehead Charm.

No, it was the feel of it. Cruelty, malice, suffering and despair hung in the air so thick that they could almost taste it. It was orders of magnitude worse than what the Aztecs had left behind. The Valyrians had practiced both sorcery and slavery on a wide scale. Putting those two together never ended well. Little wonder that nobody had ever managed to traverse this place – the magical residue would poison the souls of even the most spiritually insensitive, although the right sort of psychopath might be able to withstand it long enough to get in and out.

Harry and Luna wrapped their auras around themselves into a hardened shell to keep out the magical residue and began looting.

XXXXX

Harry irritably waved away yet another wailing ghost and flew towards what used to be a large estate. The blasted spirits had started shoving up not long after he and Luna had arrived and wouldn't get the fucking hint.

Most of them were spiteful, others regretful, some desperate. All of them were attention whores.

Feh, as if he had either the time or inclination to listen to the whining of the random dead.

He spotted something interesting sitting in the direct center of what was once no doubt a beautiful courtyard.

It was a horn. A very large, black horn obviously taken from a truly massive dragon, about six feet long and as wide as his chest. Bands of red gold and Valyrian steel circled it, inlaid with magical glyphs.

Luna looked at its polished, shiny surface and saw her reflection staring back, but twisted and vile.

"Didn't they know how to do anything except enslave?" She asked sadly.

Harry didn't reply the rhetorical question, as it had become quite clear over the past few hours that the answer was probably a resounding 'no'.

The horn only further proved this assumption. He couldn't read Valyrian yet, so he didn't know what it said, but he could listen to the horn's voice just fine. It was essentially a compressed ritual imbued into an item. A slave for a slave. The horn's innate fire magic would burn out and consume the human slave blowing it to charge a powerful spell meant to bind a dragon slave.

"We should destroy it." Luna continued.

"As soon as I'm done studying it." Harry agreed. The actual work done on the horn was genius, but he had no use for its purpose and he wouldn't let anyone else have any use for it either.

XXXXX

It never got truly dark in Valyria, nor did it ever get bright. The Fourteen Flames and magma rivers running over the shattered landscape cast everything in a permanent reddish glow that reflected back from the dark clouds above, Combined with the intensely toxic miasma of dark emotion choking the region, the thousands of tormented ghosts flying around, the sweltering heat and the acid rain, the place had a definite 'Hell on Earth' sort of feel to it.

Harry and Luna spent the better part of two weeks picking over the carcass of the dead civilization, in the process accumulating a haul of treasure that would have kings and princes salivating had they known of it.

Weapons and armor of Valyrian steel, another twelve Glass Candles, fossilized dragon eggs, several tons of dragon bone, trinkets and baubles of every description... They left behind the gold, but it was still enough to buy entire kingdoms.

They had even found Brightroar, the ancestral Valyrian steel greatsword of House Lannister that King Tommen II Lannister had taken with him on his ill-conceived quest to loot Valyria not long after the Doom.

Adrastia had asked them to keep an eye out for it because of the political leverage it represented. Harry hadn't really been planning to expend too much effort looking for it, but the trail of skeletons leading inland from a wrecked ship with a lion-shaped prow had been a rather obvious clue.

What they had not found a lot of was exactly what Harry had been hoping for the most. Books, scrolls, writings of any kind. There were some, but most hadn't survived the initial cataclysm or the intervening centuries of exposure to poor conditions.

Harry also visited the ruined temples dedicated to their gods. According to books on the subject looted from the Citadel, the dragonlords may have actually considered themselves to be above the gods and tolerated religion out of indifference, or perhaps even perpetuated it to make the lower classes and slaves easier to control. Opinions differed.

Whatever the case was, the temples yielded no answers. There was nothing there but broken stone now, if there had ever been anything else.

Sleeping in the Valyrian peninsula was a bit tricky with the miasma clinging to it, but they had come prepared. An expanded chest was converted into a small bedroom and enchanted to block outside influences.

Two weeks to the day of their arrival, they ventured north, a direction thus far avoided because it seemed to be the epicenter of the miasma.

The reason for this became clear when they came reached the base of one of the volcanoes that made up the Fourteen Flames.

There were numerous toppled towers and ruined mansions in the area steeped in powerful, albeit decaying, magic.

Near to them, there were always 'mining towns', which were really more along the lines of vast fields of slave pens and a small settlement for their whip holders. Clearly, the Freehold's dedicated sorcerers had wanted to stay close to a supply of sacrifices.

Harry now understood what had caused the Doom. Idiots who not only hadn't properly isolated their rituals, but had in fact been performing them in a place steeped in hatred, suffering and cruelty. And practically on top of a truly gigantic chain of volcanoes at that. The dumb cunts had probably been so drunk on their power, so obsessed with fire and blood and their own self-importance that they disregarded the feelings of their slaves as magically irrelevant. If the Fourteen Flames had erupted naturally, then it would have covered half the world in ash, but the hatred of the slaves had kept it tightly focused on Valyria alone.

Basically, the Doom was caused by stupidity. Harry couldn't muster even a shred of surprise. How typically human of them.

They were just exploring one of the ruined residences for magical knick-knacks when a tremendous roar shook the earth.

Luna blinked and looked up at the volcano looming above them.

"Ooh, that's a big dragon." She said, smiling at the reptile as it emerged from the volcano, its scales as black as coal.

"It sure is." Harry agreed. The damn thing was almost the size of the caldera it was crawling out of.

"Do you think he's friendly?" Luna asked hopefully, watching the gigantic lizard spread a vast pair of wings that were each about the size of a football field.

The dragon roared again, and Harry heard the madness and hunger in the sound. It reminded him of this cannibal serial killer he'd run across once.

"Nope."

It lifted itself into the air with difficulty, gliding down towards them in wide circles much like a vulture.

"We should go, then." Luna said serenely, hopping on her Disc.

"Hmm." Harry frowned in thought as he did the same, staring at the dragon the whole time. He was conflicted. It would be a shame to kill such a magnificent magical creature, but it would be nice to get his hands on some materials with which he could make new magical foci. Decisions, decisions.

A immense torrent of black dragonfire attempted to incinerate them, but their Discs quickly took them out of danger. Where the dragonfire hit, molten rock was left behind.

"Bad dog! Rolled up newspaper." Harry scolded, conjuring up a spear of crackling yellow lightning.

It wasn't a very good spell, all things considered. There were others that were more effective, easier to cast and just plain better.

But none of those spells were references. "Have a taste of Gwyn's Sunlight Spear!"

The Sunlight Spear hit the great black dragon close to the shoulder and it roared in both pain and fury. The injury seemed to be causing it an unexpectedly large amount of trouble and it slowly glided downwards until it landed on the ground with a thundering crash.

Now grounded, the dragon roared another challenge.

Harry frowned as he heard the madness and hunger in the sound again. Had the dragon also been affected by the magical miasma left behind by the Doom? And something about this particular dragon niggled at the back of his mind. Its size and color and even its viciousness.

He had read up on the Targaryen dragons, being none too impressed with the way the inbred cunts had used them like living weapons. What had especially intrigued him was the fact that several of the beasts had vanished mysteriously during or immediately after the civil war known as the Dance of Dragons.

One such dragon in particular was described as being very much like this one, one who was known and feared for his habit of eating other dragons and dragon eggs, as well as anyone foolish enough to try taming him.

"Cannibal!" He called out, amplifying his voice with magic to make sure the overgrown lizard heard him.

It briefly stilled and its magma-red eyes narrowed, obviously recognizing the word. Then it inhaled deeply and breathed out another blast of black dragonfire.

The flames were huge and wide, but not nearly fast enough to hit him given the acceleration his Disc was capable of.

"He looks old." Luna noted, gliding up next to him.

Harry had to agree. Even aside from his ludicrous size, Cannibal was missing several of his man-sized teeth, one of his massive horns was broken, his claws were chipped and ragged and there were notable rips in his wings. Perhaps it hadn't been the Sunlight Spear that had grounded him after all, but simply the fact that he couldn't stay in the air for very long anymore. Now that he thought about it, his lift off earlier had also looked rather laboured, hadn't it?

And given the accounts of the maesters in the books he'd read, it was entirely possible that Cannibal had already been lairing on the island of Dragonstone before the Targaryen's had arrived there in 114 BC, more than three hundred years ago now. In comparison, Balerion the Black Dread, Aegon the Conqueror's dragon, had died of old age at a mere two hundred.

Although...those accounts didn't mention any signs of him looking so decrepit, or being so huge for that matter. Was it simply not mentioned, forgotten or was there something else going on?

Medieval history-keeping was an atrocity. Maybe the Greensight would give him some answers later, but given how few weirwoods there were south of the Neck, he wasn't holding his breath on it.

Well, at least he knew what to do now. Cannibal didn't look like he had much longer anyway, so killing him for materials wasn't just useful, it was also merciful. Having your body wither and fail on you was not something that a dragon should suffer.

"Just calm down and let me put you out of your misery." He said, weaving together a spell of Ball Lightning.

Cannibal took a deep breath and exhaled a great sheet of fire, swinging his head to and fro to cover as much of the sky in it as possible. He'd obviously learned that narrow cones wouldn't work.

Not that 'spray and pray' tactics would, seeing as both Harry and Luna only needed to rise higher into the air to get out of range

Harry threw the Ball Lightning down, hitting Cannibal dead on. The sphere discharged its contained power, making the dragon roar in pain for a few seconds before he shook it off.

"That's some magic resistance he's got." Harry muttered, impressed.

"Don't drag it out, Harry." Luna said. "I'll distract him for you so you can finish him."

Harry frowned in consternation for a moment before nodding. He'd wanted to test out how tough dragons in this world were, but Luna would be upset if he did that.

Below them, Cannibal roared again, projecting volumes of frustration and impotent rage. Grounded as he was, he couldn't really do anything against a flying foe and it was rapidly driving him deeper into madness.

"It's okay, it'll be over soon." Luna said sympathetically, reminded of many old predators she'd seen, who didn't know how to live anymore when their teeth fell out and their limbs failed them.

She conjured up a flurry of dancing lights before the dragon's snout, grabbing his attention. Cannibal snapped his jaws at them and let loose a brief blast of flame when that didn't work.

He never saw Harry descending down on him with one of the random Valyrian steel swords they'd taken, easily piercing through his thick skull and into his brain.

XXXXX

It took Harry a good five days to completely harvest Cannibal's corpse and by that point both he and Luna were more than a little fed up of Valyria. At least they were able to portkey back instead of having to go through another long and boring flight. Fast the Discs might be, but they were primarily made for combat and with no sensation of wind or motion, riding them was a rather dull experience.

Aside from its charming ambiance, Valyria also had the tendency to make people feel filthy literally all the time, so the first thing that Harry and Luna did when they got back to Dol Guldur was to hop into a hot tub and just soak. Adrastia joined them because she wanted to hear all about it...and because she was a hedonist that would never turn down a soak in a hot tub.

"You found Brightroar?" Addrastia asked happily.

"Yep, it was next to a corpse in a collapsed house on the outskirts of Valyria." Harry nodded. "Seems like ol' Tommen managed to shamble that far before dying of dehydration or exposure or whatever."

"Oh, the things I could leverage that sword for." The Black Widow chuckled gleefully. "Especially if I wait until the Lannisters find themselves in some kind of pickle."

"I suppose it'll be at least a little bit amusing to extort the richest family in the Seven Kingdoms with something so trivial." Harry allowed.

"Or we could be nice and just return it to them." Luna added.

Harry and Adrastia both snorted. The latter would never give up even the smallest bit of leverage for free and the former would sooner let it gather dust than waste time being nice to some random stranger.

"What else did you find?" Adrastia asked eagerly.

"Oh, you know, stuff." Harry replied lazily.

"Tell me." She said huskily, rubbing herself up against him.

"Hmm...more Glass Candles, lots of other Valyrian steel crap, some dragon eggs, literal tons of dragon bone..."

"And Cannibal!" Luna chirped.

Adrastia blinked in confusion. "You found cannibals in Valyria?"

"Just one." Harry snickered. "And his name, or possibly title, was Cannibal. He was a dragon."

"The same one that vanished after the Dance of Dragons?" She questioned further, eyebrows shooting upwards. She had read the same books on the subject as Harry.

"Yep." He nodded. "And I've developed two theories as to why he's lived so long."

"Do tell."

"Theory A. He was sustaining his life by eating the flesh and magic of other dragons."

"Not something I've ever heard of dragons doing back on Earth, but these are a different breed." Adrastia pondered.

"You're more right than you know. These ones are a lot more magically powerful than Earth dragons. Anyway, Theory B. Something in Westeros was shortening the life spans of the Targaryen dragons."

She caught on quickly. "Sabotage?"

"Either that or their magic is somehow incompatible with the land. Could even be both, as my two theories aren't mutually exclusive. Something to look into either way."

"Hmm." Adrastia's face regain its seductive expression and she began drawing little circles on Harry's chest. "Does that mean you can finally make me a proper wand?"

Harry had tried making it before, but without a proper materials his attempts had been...meh. The best result he'd gotten so far had been a weirwood branch freely donated by the Old Gods, but even that had only yielded a wand powerful enough to handle a few weak spells. Without the core of a powerful magical creature, the wood simply couldn't pull enough power from the user.

"Probably." Harry nodded. "Don't expect it to be like your old one though. I'm not a formally trained wandcrafter. Honestly, you'd be better off learning how to do it yourself."

"Me, work with my hands?" Adrastia laughed. "My dear, crafter's affinity advantage or not, anything that I could make would pale in comparison to your own work."

"Suit yourself." Harry shrugged. "So, what's been going on around here? Did you make Bragni cream his pants yet?"

"No, the adorable boy is still terrified of your wrath should he even think of touching me. For the moment, your semi-divine status in his head holds more sway than his hormones, although I wouldn't be surprised if he asks for some time off soon in order to steal himself a woman."

"Horny brats." Harry rolled his eyes hypocritically. "I'll see about talking him out of it until he's at least fifteen, less chance of having my idiot apprentice getting his balls hacked off by whatever woman he goes after that way."

"Quite." Adrastia nodded in agreement, smiling widely in amusement at the mental imagery. "In other news, we've had some more free folk sniffing around, but they didn't approach. We will probably be receiving some attention from the larger groups soon. Bloodraven and his men also reached the Wall just a few days ago. I suppose we won't hear from them again for at least a month and possibly for as long as a year, depending on how long it takes for them to decide on anything."

"Those idiots and the ones further south are going to be such a tedious bore with the raging hard-on they have for all that honor and duty nonsense." Harry sighed. "I'll have to check on Musgood to see what stupid notion entered his head this time. Ten to one odds that he thinks it's some wildling plot."

"Sucker bet." Adrastia and Luna chorused.

"What about the list, did you make it?" He asked.

Adrastia nodded. "I went for a wide selection that should get along with each other well enough, although judging such a thing through a Glass Candle is far from reliable. The first is a clanless warg in her early twenties by the name of Hala . Her partner is a direwolf and she seems fierce and independent, a loner that wanders the wild and regularly trades with several of the villages to the north-east. However, her dreams are often filled with a sense of loneliness and longing to be part of a community, but she is also too proud to settle for stealing a man weaker than herself and her direwolf makes her too dangerous a target for anyone short of another warg with a similarly powerful companion or a giant. She will fight you every step of the way, but I believe that she will settle in quickly once she is taken."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. "Well, humans are social creatures and wolves are pack animals, so of course she'd be feeling lonely. Are all of the ones you've picked skinchangers?"

"No, I figured you would like a few with no magical gifts to speak of for a 'wider data set'. "Adrastia replied, making mocking air quotes at the end. "I avoided any particularly dimwitted ones, but the others are still more docile by nature, even the wargs, so Hala could be trained to keep them in line."

"A direwolf though..." Harry frowned. "Those things are almost the size of horses when they grow up, there's no way the Disc will be big enough to carry me, it and Hala. I might have to put together a new means of transportation." He had one flying carpet in his hammerspace that had more room, but a direwolf was so big that it would probably still only barely fit on it.

"Yes, and leaving the direwolf behind isn't an option if you want her to settle in." Adrastia agreed.

"I can't wait to give it a bath!" Luna burbled happily, expression dreamy and eyes far away as she imagined playing with a cute giant puppy.

XXXXX

The next day.

Harry exhaled and came out of the Greensight trance.

"Well?" Adrastia prompted.

He considered what he had seen. Hala was very tall for a woman, only a couple of inches shorter than him. Not terribly feminine with her strong arms, broad shoulders and somewhat hard face, but her dark hair and icy blue eyes made her striking nonetheless. The large breasts and wide hips were also appreciated, even if he hadn't considered them a priority. Adrastia always did know how to pick some good women.

"I like her." Harry said with a small grin, already looking forward to 'stealing' her. The overt assertion of dominance that this rather interesting custom implied tickled at his BDSM bone.

XXXXX

A few days later...

"This is your transport solution." Adrastia asked, incredulity mixing with distaste. "A cloud?"

"A Nimbus Cloud." Harry replied with a grin. "Now excuse while I go kidnap a woman and her giant wolf."

And he zoomed off, humming the Dragonball theme song to himself.

"I like it." Luna said, smiling at the retreating figure of her husband.

"It is never a good idea to give a man too much praise, even if he deserves it. It tends to go right to their heads." Adrastia said sagely.

XXXXX

The days were short and the nights long during winter, especially in the True North.

Hala trudged through the snow at a steady pace. Her last hunt had taken longer than expected and she had to hurry back to shelter. Being exposed in the dark was not wise, even if Ash could scare away most dangers.

A raven croaked nearby and Ash stilled with a low growl.

"What is it?" Hala asked quietly, nocking an arrow into her bow and looking around warily.

The croak came again.

"Show yourself!" She demanded, feeling her neck prickle in a way that she knew meant that she was being watched.

"I'm impressed." A deep, male voice said and she quickly spun to face it.

It was a tall man with long, shiny black hair, a scarred face and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen, which almost seemed to glow in the dark. The clothes he wore were definitely not of free folk make and looked more like something one of them southron lordlings would wear, not that she'd ever seen one of those.

"Not many can detect me that easily, even if I wasn't trying too hard." He continued.

"Aye, and what are you skulking about for?" She asked warily, still keeping her bow nocked. She'd been hearing rumors lately, rumors about magic, a stone tower and a sorcerer with green eyes in a scarred face.

"I came to steal myself a woman." He said with a wide grin.

Hala glanced at the sky. It had been a rare cloudless day and the stars were visible. The Thief shone bright red inside the Moonmaid, a good omen for stealing a woman.

"You picked the wrong one!" She shouted, letting the arrow fly.

The sorcerer waved his hand and the arrow went wide.

Ash pounced towards him with a snarl, only to plow face first into the snow after getting hit with a blast of red light.

"NO!" Hala screamed in rage and drew her bronze dagger, charging forward with intent to kill.

The sorcerer grinned and easily caught her hand, twisting her wrist to make her drop the dagger. She swung her other hand at his face, but he caught that one too.

Hala wasn't a weak woman by any means, but she found her arms easily forced behind her back despite her best efforts and he was able to pin both of her arms with one of his. Her attempts to stomp on his feet were ignored, but when she tried to slam the back of her head into his nose, he tangled the fingers of his other hand into her hair so that his palm was resting on the curve of her skull, preventing her from trying again.

Hala squirmed and struggled, but he was just too strong and she couldn't break his hold.

The sorcerer whistled and a cloud flew in, stopping just in front of them.

The sight was so unexpected that Hala stopped struggling for a moment and just gaped, but she did resume it as she was manhandled to step onto it.

It felt kind of like standing on a thick pile of furs, but she wasn't really in the mood to notice that.

Ash levitated from where she fell and on to the cloud as well.

"What did you do to her?" Hala demanded furiously.

"Calm your tits, woman." The sorcerer answered, sounding infuriatingly casual and unstrained from holding her. "She's just asleep."

Hala took a look at her fallen direwolf and noted with relief that she was indeed still breathing.

The cloud lifted off and they were flying swiftly through the air.

For several long seconds, Hala was too overcome by a mixture of fear and awe to really react as the cold wind buffeted her face, but she regained her wits once the immediate shock wore off.

"Where are you taking us?" She demanded.

"To Dol Guldur." He answered, beginning to rub her scalp in a way that was actually rather pleasant.

"Let go of me!" Hala snarled, trying to twist out of his grip.

"No."

She let out a wordless sound of enraged frustration at the amusement in his voice.

"Besides, what are you going to do even if I did? Jump to the ground?" He continued in the same amused tone.

That was a good point, Hala conceded in her head even as she tried to somehow slam her heel into his crotch.

"My name is Harry, by the way."

"I don't care what the fuck your name is!" She roared.

"What a dirty mouth you've got." Harry remarked and she could almost feel the leer on his face as he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "I'll put it to good use."

"I'll bite your fucking cock off if you bring it anywhere near my mouth!"

"We'll see." He just chuckled. "Ah, there it is. Home sweet home."

Hala's breath left her in a gasp as she saw the massive tower. She'd heard rumors, but to see it...not to mention how quickly they made the trip... The area around the Fist of the First Men was familiar to her, but it would have taken her nearly twenty days of walking to get to it from where she'd been.

The cloud flew them up to a protruding platform about three quarters of the way up the tower and Hala found herself manhandled off the cloud. Ash levitated into the air again and floated behind them as the sorcerer matched her through the stone halls.

Hala wasn't really in the right mindset to appreciate the place, as the reality of what was about to happen hit her and she began struggling with renewed vigor.

They stopped briefly by a cozy den of some sort and the sleeping direwolf was gently deposited on a spot that had obviously been prepared for her.

That event actually served to calm Hala down considerably. The fear that her direwolf would be harmed had far outweighed all other fears.

She still kept struggling though, and continued her attempts to hit, trip and otherwise inconveniece Harry the entire way.

It only stopped when she was marched into a room through an open door and pushed onto a bed.

Hala was quick to get back on her feet and stared at the smirking sorcerer warily. A quick glance around the room showed that it contained more luxury than she'd ever imagined. A large, soft bed, a warm fireplace, a door leading to another room, some weird upright boxes made of wood and a bunch of other stuff that she didn't even recognize.

It was, all in all, more than any of the free folk could ever expect to have. Scores of women would have thrown themselves at him for just a scrap of what was being subtly offered.

Hala threw herself at him all right, with her fist swinging.

XXXXX

Harry couldn't help but grin as he fended off Hala's attacks. Restraining her with spells would be easy, but he knew that his magic truly frightened her and that she would respond better to pure physicality.

The real reason for his grin, though, was her wildness. He'd had many, many types of women over the course of his life, but never one so primal and savage. Societies were always structured to protect women in one way or another, even if they did so in an oppressive way. The impulse to do so was hardwired into humanity's biological makeup.

The clans of the free folk were no different and did their best to shield their women and children from danger as much as possible, although the harsh environment meant that what they could realistically do was very limited.

But Hala had been on her own since she was twelve. Nobody but herself and her direwolf to rely on, whose instincts bled over to her just as her higher intellect bled over to the beast. Her survival had always been entirely on her that meant a lot of stubborn willpower. There would be no easy submission from her.

He caught her latest attempt to knock his teeth out and spun her around so that she had her back pressed against his chest, her arms pinned across her own chest. She might be very strong for a woman, but he was bigger and stronger. Plus, he did know a thing or two about martial arts after getting into it a couple of centuries ago out of sheer boredom.

"Before the night is over, you'll be begging me to fuck you." He rumbled into her ear.

Hala snarled like an animal and struggled furiously, stomping and squirming and trying to bash him with her head.

Harry forcibly yanked her furs up over her head as an improvised restraint and deposited her on the bed. He first pulled off her boots and then her trousers, or britches or whatever they were called, while she tried to free herself from her top.

He helped her out with that once he had her lower half naked, pulling it the rest of the way over her head.

Hala managed to wiggle one of her legs free and kicked him away with a cry of exertion.

Harry rubbed at his chest as the now naked and panting spearwife got back on her feet, giving her a smile.

Her response was a furious glare and a snarl. "Come on if you think you're hard enough!

"Oh, I'm plenty hard." He chuckled at the innuendo and began removing his own clothes, keeping his stare fixed on her the whole time.

This allowed him to notice something that had him suppressing a frown. She was built like an Amazon and he rather liked it, but he was less than enthused about her hygene. It only made sense, he supposed. Bathing anywhere except a hot spring in the lands beyond the Wall was basically suicide by hypothermia, which meant months and months spent accumulating layers of dirt, sweat and various bodily oils under the same set of smelly furs.

In short, she was filthy and stank. Dental hygene and a good scalp scrubbing could have waited, but literally dirty sex was not one of his fetishes. Something would have to be done.

He noticed Hala's eyes flickering over his body and he could read the interest and purely aesthetic appreciation in them. She would still fight him tooth and nail, but she did find him attractive and he could tell that she had already begun to accept the situation. That was good, very good, and he wouldn't risk it by spooking her with an overt use of magic.

So he went to open the door to the adjoining bathroom instead.

"What's in there?" Hala demanded.

"Let me show you." Harry replied, walking over to her with clear intent.

She bared her teeth at him aggressively and set herself into a fighter's crouch, knees bent and arms raised.

Harry flowed around her punch and grabbed her wrist, quickly putting her into the same submission hold he'd used to manhandle her onto the Nimbus cloud. This time, he manhandled her into the bathroom and then the shower.

When he turned it on and the spray of warm water started, Hala was so shocked that she stopped struggling completely.

"What...?" She trailed off, obviously not even sure what to ask.

"It's called a shower." Harry explained, loosening his hold.

She took the opportunity to wrench her arms free and sock him one right in the kidneys.

Harry grunted in pain and quickly grabbed her wrists again, forcing her around and pinning her face-first against the wall with his whole body.

"Let go!" She growled, rubbing her arse against his crotch in a rather distracting manner.

"Maybe I would if you stopped trying to hit me every time I did." Harry growled right back. "Just calm the fuck down."

She said nothing and continued her attempts to wiggle free.

Harry just sandwiched her against the wall even more firmly and waited patiently for her to exhaust herself. The water soaking them was pleasantly warm, his shaft was nestled between her cheeks and her struggling actually felt rather nice.

Hala's writhing took on a slightly different tone after about two minutes of this. It was less aggressive and more...needy.

Harry experimentally eased up a bit and, when she didn't immediately try to throw him off, loosened his grip on her wrists. Since she kept herself braced against the wall, he ran his hands down her body and slowly started to corkscrew his thumbs into her lower back, sending gentle pulses of stimulating magic into her nervous system.

The tension noticeably bled out of her body and she let out a little sigh, now grinding her pelvis against his in an unmistakably sensual fashion.

Harry didn't say anything, not wanting to snap her out of it. There was still a very good chance that she would go back to being belligerent at the slightest provocation.

Her moved his hands up along her spine, massaging the muscles and casting a stimulation spell every few seconds. Once he got to her neck and shoulders, he turned down the water and reached over for a bottle of shampoo.

Hala immediately tensed when the pop of the bottle opening echoed in the shower.

"What's that." She asked tersely, but didn't move.

"Something for your hair." Harry answered, beginning to gently massage the shampoo into her scalp. Her hair was quite tangled and had obviously seen neither a wash nor a comb in a long, long time, so he had to be careful not to yank on any knots.

"It smells like herbs and berries." Hala noted, calming down again.

The greatest alchemist the world had ever seen, reduced to using his craft to make toiletries.

"That's what it's made of." Harry agreed, not letting on to his self-mocking thoughts. "Lean your head back."

Although hesitant, she obeyed and he was able to rub the shampoo into the crown of her head as well.

"There we go." He said, sweeping her hair backwards. "Now for the rest of you."

Hala went rigid again, but said nothing and simply waited.

Harry didn't go for the soap bottle he had placed there in preparation of her arrival, but instead pulled his own soap out of hammerspace. The reason for this was that he favored a granulated liquid soap that felt like rubbing sand against skin, which, after seeing how hard the filth was caked on Hala's body, he figured was necessary.

"Is this some southron thing?" Hala asked after a few moments, seemingly enjoying the rough scraping sensation.

"Better." He replied, crouching down to lather up her legs.

"Better?" She echoed.

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a wizard if I couldn't do better, now would I?" He chuckled.

"Ha!" She briefly guffawed. "So I'm getting something better than the southron kings and lordlings, then?"

Harry slid his hands around to her front and began working a lather on her breasts. "Yes, you are."

Hala tensed briefly, but then relaxed again and began shifting around in a way that suggested she was enjoying it.

He took the opportunity to play with her stiff nipples a little, as well as sneak in a few nerve stimulation spells. When he had her panting slightly and using her arse to rub his shaft, his hands slowly slid southwards until he was combing through the rather thick bush of her pubic hair.

Now that she was completely soapy, Harry tugged on her hair to indicate that she should lean her head back again and then turned the water back up.

The soap and shampoo was gradually washed off, the runoff being almost black. Harry could only shake his head in amusement at how thick the layer of filth had been.

Once the soap was off, he slipped his hand between her legs again and gently brushed against her engorge clitoris.

Hala gasped and bumped her hips backwards, so he repeated the action and grinned at the little noise of pleasure that escaped her throat.

Then she abruptly rammed her pelvis backwards to force him back a few steps, spun around to kick at the back of his knee to make the leg buckle and force him to kneel and swung her fist right at his eye before he could react properly.

Harry grunted in pain and rolled with the blow, thankful that he'd made the shower so large, and quickly got back on his feet. He quickly cast a healing spell on eye before it could develop into a proper bruise.

She was standing there under the spray of water, breathing deeply with her fist still extended and teeth bared aggressively. Her eyes weren't angry though, but challenging and heated.

"Does it hurt?" She mocked.

Harry growled and stalked towards her, grabbing her arms and pining her against the wall again.

"Not at all." He purred. "You'll have to try better than that."

Hala's icy blue eyes burned and she tried to struggle out of his grip to do exactly that.

But Harry was done playing around. He pinned her arms above her head by holding her wrists with his left hand and used his right alongside his hips to wedge her legs apart. With a little maneuvering, his member was prodding at her wet entrance.

"What are you waiting for?" She snarled, still trying to somehow twist her hips around to get away. "Get on with it already!"

No doubt she was expecting it to be fast and hard, but Harry had other ideas. He started sinking into her with torturous slowness, occasionally pulling back a little and then going in a little further.

"Stop stalling!" She growled.

"I just don't want to hurt you." He said with a smirk so smug and self-satisfied that anyone would be able to tell he was full of shit. Despite her struggling, she was wet and ready and he could have gone a lot faster, but he wanted to frustrate her.

Hala made a noise of frustration and wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him in.

Harry stopped completely, about halfway i, and rolled his hips around,. He also used his now free right hand to start tweaking her nipples.

"If you want me to go faster, all you have to do is ask nicely." He said, resuming his very slow penetration.

Hala's eyes flashed with fire as she caught the insinuation that she would have to beg. Predictably, she stilled and tried to pretend that she wasn't enjoying herself, even going so far as to look away.

Harry just smirked as he slowly sank all the way into her, seeing the minute tells in her body that betrayed her pleasure. Once he was fully hilted, he used the connection this created to cast a spell that would heighten her stimulation.

A good minute was spent just using his shaft to stir her insides and his smirk widened when he saw her clenched jaw and trembling lips.

"I can do this all night." He told her idly, begginning to pull out.

Hala huffed out a breath of air through her nose like an angry bull and stayed silent.

This state of affairs continued for a good half hour. Harry would tease her nipples, hilt himself into her, roll his hips, cast a spell to stimulate her in places he couldn't with just his member and then pull out before repeating the whole thing, all of with with excruciating slowness.

Hala would stay stubbornly quiet and refuse to even look at him, but she betrayed her enjoyment more and more. Her breathing accelerated into a near pants, her body shook with minute trembles, her hips would buck into him and she was visibly swallowing any noises that might escape her.

She was clearly trying to outlast his own endurance, probably figuring that he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to start the fucking in earnest, but she didn't know that he had six hundred years of practice with restraint , or that he was cheating outrageously.

Either that, or she was thinking that she'd be able to reach orgasm eventually even at this slow pace, as if he would allow her any release before she broke.

Still, she was impressively stubborn.

"Is your pride really worth all this frustration?" Harry asked. "Just say 'please fuck me' and I'll give you what you want."

Hala finally turned her head back to face him, looking down at him with eyes full of both lust and defiant pride. Then she spat in his face. "Fuck you!"

Harry calmly wiped his face and stared at her with amusement. "Were you hoping that would make me angry enough to fuck you silly? Clever, but I'm afraid you'll find me harder to manipulate than that."

She released what sounded like a frustrated scream that was being kept imprisoned in her throat and started struggling furiously. Not to get away, but to make him move faster.

Harry resumed what had to be some of the slowest sex he'd ever had. To be sure, he was probably as frustrated as Hala, but watching the war between her pride and the demands of her body play out in front of him was a pleasure of a different sort.

Eventually, he had to let go of her wrists in order to use both hands to support her weight, which ended up being rather painful as she clawed at his back. Fortunately, the runes he'd carved into his skin a long time ago made him tougher than normal and allowed him to heal faster, so he ended up suffering no more than welts.

After about an hour, he also had to use a little bit of magic to support her weight because he was getting tired of holding her up. Despite his boast earlier, he could not, in fact, keep fucking her against the wall all night.

Finally, after nearly two hours, Hala's resolve finally broke.

"JUST FUCK ME PROPERLY ALREADY, YOU BASTARD!" She roared, panting and trembling, eyes more than a little wild. If the shower wasn't still on, she'd probably be covered in sweat.

"Not until you ask nicely." Harry growled.

Hala made a noise that reminded him of a wounded rhino before slumping slightly. She swallowed thickly and spoke as if the word was clinging to her throat with grappling hooks and had to be dragged out. "Pleeeeease."

"Please what?" Harry demanded.

"PLEASE FUCK ME, BY THE FUCKING GODS I WILL-UNNGH!" Whatever threat she had been about to roar was interrupted as he thrust into her with all the lust he'd been holding back since this game started."

"See? Was. That. So. Hard?" He growled, pulling out and slamming back in with every word.

Hala cried out with ecstatic relief every time she was filled "YES! Faster! Harder! Please!"

Harry was more than happy to oblige and picked up the pace further. He could already feel his long denied orgasm approaching and timed it carefully so that it would coincide with hers.

With one final thrust, he groaned with relief and spilled his seed into her while she convulsed against him from the force of her climax.

He sighed with relief when it was over and lifted her lolling head so that he could look into her eyes. They were fluttering closed and she was obviously ready to fall asleep then and there.

"You're mine now, understand?" He told her.

"Mmm." Was the only response she gave.

"Close enough." Harry chuckled and carried her out of the shower. She fell asleep seconds later, so he was able to use magic to dry her off and then put her to bed with no further issue.

XXXXX

When Hala next woke it was very slowly. Heat and softness pressed in on her from all sides, almost begging her to drift off again.

But she was a free folk spearwife and used to sleeping lightly in case she needed to react to danger, so the memories of last night quickly jolted her awake.

Hala stared wide-eyed around the room, noting that it was the very same one the sorcerer had taken her to after snatching her in the Haunted Forest.

Her body flushed and tingled as she went over the memories of what came after. She'd been stolen, but it hadn't been as rough or as painful as she'd heard some women say.

Aye, the sorcerer...Harry...had been forceful with her but he hadn't hurt her when she fought him like she'd expected him to. He had made her surrender to him.

Hala couldn't even summon any anger about it. She was the sorcerer's woman now. How had he known that she would keep fighting him until he broke her pride when even she hadn't known it until now?

Gods, but it had been a good fucking. She was already looking forward to another go, this time without the games.

New situation reasoned out, Hala looked around the room properly.

There was a low table next to her bed and she spotted a clear container of some sort filled with water on it. That reminded her of just show thirsty she was, and she gulped it down greedily.

Brushing her hair away from her face made her pause again and feel it out experimentally. It was softer and smoother than she could ever recall it being and, after sniffing it, smelled the familiar scent of herbs and berries from last night. That stuff Harry had used on it was pretty amazing. And her skin felt cleaner than ever too. All in all, she had nothing to complain about.

She was just about to get out of bed and explore a bit, maybe even find Ash, when the door opened and a woman with skin as dark as mud stepped in. She was wearing queer clothes that didn't look like they belonged beyond the Wall, just like Harry.

"Good morning." She said. "My name is Adrastia, Harry's second woman. You are his third."

Hala didn't even blink at that. Rumors about the tower and the sorcerer had mentioned that he lived with two women. Besides, in the True North, a man had what he could take and kept what he could defend, including women.

"What's wrong with your skin?" She asked bluntly.

Adrastia sighed irritably. Obviously it was a question she was asked often. "Nothing is wrong with it, I just come from a land far to the south, where everyone has skin like this."

"Oh." Hala didn't understand how just being born in the south would make your skin darker, but didn't voice it. "What'd you want?"

"I came to help you dress and escort you to breakfast." Adrastia explained.

"I don't need help puttin' on clothes!" Hala snarled indignantly. She had been dressing herself since she was a small child!

Adrastia merely stared at her blankly and opened one of those strange bits of wooden furniture she'd noticed last night. Inside was a bunch of clothes the like of which she'd never seen before. Then she opened up a nearby drawer, again filled with things she didn't recognize.

"By all means then, get dressed." The dark-skinned woman said.

"Where's my furs?" Hala demanded.

"Harry took them." Adrastia shrugged. "Not to worry, I'm sure they will be returned to you better than ever, but for now you will have to make do with what we have here."

Hala scowled, but stepped forward to look anyway.

"What's this?" She asked, holding up a strange thing made up of stretchy straps and two large cups.

"It's a bra." Adrastia explained with a smirk. "It supports your tits to take some of the strain off your back."

Hala paused. She had been ready to throw the thing away on account of it being some dumb southron nonsense, but her back did get a bit achy sometimes...

"How do you put it on?"

XXXXX

Adrastia had been expecting it, but Hala still made her want to sigh in despair.

The spearwife had little to no femininity to speak of. She stomped around like a man, her speech was crude and unrefined, her shoulders were too broad and her limbs far too muscular for most outfits to work. There was actually a good chance that there were a few drops of giant blood in her now that she thought about it.

It made sense of course, femininity was useless when you had to stalk and kill your own dinner day in and day out, but it was still hard to watch as Hala sneered at anything feminine and finally settled on a pair of unflattering grey sweatpants.

At least she had consented to the white silk blouse, although Adrastia suspected it was merely because the feel of the material seemed to fascinate her.

"Are you finally goin' to take me to Ash now?" Hala asked impatiently.

"Just one more thing, we need to do something about your teeth." Adrastia said.

"What's wrong with my teeth?" The spearwife demanded indignantly.

A lot. Adrastia thought to herself. Dental care beyond the Wall consisted of picking food out of your teeth. Maybe, if you could be bothered. There was little doubt that, aside from being an unattractive yellow, they were also full of cavities. At least she still had all of them, but there was some magical dentistry looming in Hala's near future nonetheless.

"They need cleaning." She said. "Come on, it won't take long." Harry had long since invented a mouthwash that ate away at any plaque without harming the teeth. Thirty seconds was enough to give anyone a pearly white smile.

"Can't we do this later? I need to take a piss." Hala complained.

Adrastia took a deep breath and reminded herself that she'd picked this particular woman for Harry with good reason. Her strong will and independent spirit would make her a natural leader to the other women. She would make a good role model for the children and would challenge Harry enough to keep him interested instead of allowing his attention to drift elsewhere.

Still, she resolved to shape her towards the 'beautiful barbarian' archetype at least. Hala was too big and brawny to ever manage conventionally feminine and graceful, nor would it really be a good idea in this savage land, but a little bit of refinement wouldn't go amiss. It would be a bit tricky to move her in that direction without her realizing it, but her first pregnancy would present ample opportunity.

XXXXX

Hala could only stare at her direwolf in shock.

"Who's a good doggy?" A small, golden-haired woman gushed, using both hands to rub large patches of the direwolf's massive flank. "You are. Oh, yes you are."

"Ash?" Hala questioned incredulously, watching her companion lie on her side with her tongue hanging out in obvious enjoyment while she got her belly rubbed.

Ash perked up with a happy whine, and, upon seeing her human, scrambled onto her feet and trotted over eagerly.

"I'm alright, girl." Hala assured, accepting a sloppy face lick.

"Hello, I'm Luna." The golden-haired woman introduced herself and, much to her confusion, promptly hugged her. "Welcome to the family."

Just like that? Hala had been expecting at least a little resentment, but instead she got a warm welcome.

Hesitantly, she returned the hug and got a bright smile from the much smaller woman for it. It had been a long time since she'd had any family besides Ash.

"Your direwolf is very beautiful." Luna said, stepping back.

Ash sat down and panted with her tongue hanging out, looking distinctly pleased with herself.

"That she is." Hala agreed, sparing a look of befuddled amusement for her lifelong companion. It was most unusual for a direwolf, any direwolf, to take to people this fast. It boded well. "Where's Harry?"

"Right here." The man in question called out, floating a collection of plates and such behind him. "Good morning." He said towards Hala, giving her a wink and a grin.

"Good morning." She returned with a more hesitant smile. She may be his woman now and had been made welcome, but this was all still very new to her and she wasn't sure of her footing.

Harry quickly set down all the plates on the table, which Hala could now see were filled with all sorts of fruit that she'd never seen before, bread, jams, vegetables, cheese and more. It was an unreal selection of food for someone that was used to mostly unseasoned meat, fish and the occasional handful of berries.

"Come sit with me." Luna urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards a chair. "I want to hear about all the animals you've seen in the Haunted Forest."

Sitting down next to the tiny chatterbox, Hala looked around at what was to be her new...family.

Adrastia was plying Harry with not very subtle questions on how their night had been, smirking wickedly the whole time. Luna wanted to know about mammoths and shadowcats and seemingly everything else that lived in the Haunted Forest and walked on four legs. Harry was making himself something that was explained to her as a 'sandwich' and fending off Adrastia's questions.

Ash stalked around the table, curiously sniffing at everything, before finally coming to Harry with drool hanging from her huge jaws.

"You're going to get so fat, you overgrown fleabag." The sorcerer muttered, before presenting the direwolf with a big chunk of raw meat that might have once been the back end of a boar, which he got from somewhere that her mind shied away from speculating about.

Ash snapped it up and happily retreated to a corner with her prize.

She smiled to herself slightly and tried out another strange fruit that she'd never seen before, thinking that as far as being stolen went, it could certainly be a lot worse.