CH6 Visitors

12th day of the 4th moon, 236 AC. Eastern edge of the Haunted Forest.

Moro of Tyrosh hated coming this far north. He had done so only once before, nigh fifteen years ago when his captain had sailed them up here, and lost two toes to frostbite for his trouble. Now he was the captain of his own ship and here he was again, for the same reason as his old captain.

Moro's trade was the acquisition of slaves, and wildlings were in demand right now. The long, cruel winter had made sailing the Shivering Sea near impossible for the past six years, driving up their price enough that it had overcome his hatred of the cold.

Him and his crew set a quick pace into the forest, hoping to quickly track a group of the savages and drag them back to the ship.

But something felt off right from the start. Moro didn't remember the forest feeling so suffocatingly close last time, nor did he recall so many curious ravens and crows watching them from the branches.

"Captain, didn't we pass that tree already?" His first mate asked uncertainly.

Moro looked at the white-barked weirwood, noting that its carved face did look kind of familiar, but he couldn't be sure. The creepy trees were another thing he hated about this place and tried to ignore them.

A raven gave a soft croak, staring at them with its beady black eyes.

"Come on, let's keep going." Moro said roughly, dismissing all the strangeness as his imagination.

But it got worse. The forest seemed to just get darker and darker, the shadows of the trees growing long and monstrous. Moro found himself blinking and staring up at the canopy to determine the position of the sun. It didn't make sense.

"Captain!?" One of his men shouted from a distance, sounding lost and frightened.

Moro stared at him in confusion and rising anger.

"What the fuck are you doing all the way over there?!" He hollered. "Get back here!"

While Moro was muttering to himself about the stupidity of his crewmen, his first mate nudged his arm again.

"When did it get dark?" The man asked fearfully. "We made landfall just after dawn and it couldn't have been more than two hours since then. Where is the sun?"

Moro started, realizing that his first mate was right and he looked around wildly. When had it gotten dark?

"I don't..." He stopped as he noticed that his first mate wasn't there anymore.

"Daro?" Moro whispered, staring around with wide eyes. "Where did you go?"

The forest seemed to press in on him. The faces on the weirwoods stared at him judgementally and found him wanting. A thousand eyes shone in the dark.

Moro drew his sword and tried to look everywhere at once, sensing danger from all directions.

A hand snatched his wrist from behind and lifted him into the air by it as if he weighed nothing at all. Moro screamed in fright as he saw what held him. An incredibly tall woman with skin of white bark and hair of red leaves. Her expression was drawn into a cold, judgemental glare that conveyed more contempt that words ever could.

He tried to get free, kicking and screaming for all he was worth, but she was as immovable as the trees around them. Her other hand, wooden fingers wickedly sharp, plunged into his stomach and remorslessly pulled out his guts.

Moro's howl of agony echoed through the forest, but instead of scaring away animals it drew them closer like a lunch bell. He was still alive when the mass of black feathers descended on him and started consuming the feast laid out for them.

XXXXX

Meanwhile, on the eastern coast...

Harry had killed a lot of people in a lot of ways over the course of his life, but simple physical violence remained among his favorites.

It's the recoil. He mused as he brought his quarterstaff down on the tenderized mass of meat that used to be a Tyroshi slaver for one final overhead blow, feeling the satisfying jolt of force travel up his arms. You just don't get this kind of raw feedback from spells or ranged weaponry.

A whimper drew his attention away from his handywork and he raised an eyebrow at the thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy standing there, knees shaking and clutching a dagger in both hands like his life depended on it. No doubt a cabin boy or whatever the ship's designated buttmonkey was called.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He asked in the bastardized High Valyrian that was used across much of Essos. "Come at me already. It was nice of you to wait until I was done with this one, but there's a point where politeness becomes dawdling."

"Please, mercy!" The boy blubbered in terror, dropping the dagger like it had burned him.

"Mercy?" Harry was very amused. "Do you even know where you are, boy?"

The boy blubbered something incoherent.

"Well? Do you know where you are?" He pressed.

"B-beyond the Wall?" The boy asked hesitantly.

"Mhm." Harry hummed and nodded. "And why are you here?"

That got him shaking again.

Harry waited patiently.

And waited.

And waited...

There didn't seem to be an answer forthcoming, but Harry amused himself by just staring expectantly and watching the teenager mentally implode from sheer terror.

With a loud whoosh, a gigantic black crow perched on the ship's railing. Bigger than an elephant, although not nearly as heavy, only the spells he had weaved into her when she was still an egg allowed her to fly.

"Velka, you're finally here." He greeted his creation.

"Father." The great crow returned in a deep, but decidedly female, voice.

"Let me just..." Harry trailed off, focusing on casting a few spells to disintegrate the clothing from the corpses of the ship's skeleton crew that he'd just killed. He followed those up with a few cutting spells to on up the arms, legs and stomach of the dead. "There you go! Enjoy."

"Thank you." Velka said, and started gobbling up the guts of the nearest corpse like it was spaghetti. She was a carrion eater after all.

"Now, where were we?" Harry asked rhetorically, turning back to the cabin boy.

Who was staring at them in utter horror, a puddle of piss steaming around his legs.

"Really?" Harry sighed in disappointment. "I suppose it doesn't matter since you would have pissed and shat yourself soon after I killed you anyway, but isn't this kind of undignified?"

"I believe he is more concerned with survival than dignity at the moment." Velka observed, raising her bloody beak out of her meal's abdominal cavity. A chunk of intestine stuck to it.

"You've got a little..." Harry said, motioning around his mouth.

"Oh, excuse me." The giant crow apologized and shook her head, sending the sticky bit of intestine flying against the ship's mast with a wet 'splat'.

This proved too much for the cabin boy's nerves and he crashed heavily to his knees, pressing his forehead against the deck. "Please spare me! I'll do anything you want!"

Harry shook his head in disgust and threw a dagger into the boy's skull, killing him instantly.

"Kids these days." He grumbled as he summoned the dagger back to his hand and shook off the gore. "No spine or sense of personal responsibility."

XXXXX

Dol Guldur.

Harry lingered in the doorway and just observed the amusing chaos that was his current family.

The number of children had increased to seven over the past two years, although the latest three were still blessedly not up to walking and causing general mayhem alongside their older siblings.

Much to her satisfaction, Hala's second child was indeed a son, which they named Garm. He had the same black hair as his sister, but his eyes were blue-green rather than emerald.

Ava had also borne another son, which Harry named Tarkus to stay with the theme. And also because he promised to grow up as big as Havel, with the same black hair and emerald eyes.

Sons had ben the norm this time, as Sigrid also had a boy, whom they named Sindri. He didn't have quite the same dark black hair as his other siblings, being a little lighter, but the emerald eyes were the same.

Oak was currently in the final trimester of her own second pregnancy, conception having taken a lot longer the second time around. Unlike her clan-sisters, she would be bringing another daughter into the world.

The other three weren't pregnant at the moment, Harry having used spells to prevent conception from occuring again. He was thinking that eight children was more than enough, but he wasn't blind to the wistful looks Hala, Sigrid and Ava sometimes sent towards Oak's gravid belly. They wanted more.

A problem for the future.

All four of them plus Luna were currently doing their best to keep the little monsters busy while waiting for dinner. Ash was helping by letting the excitable children climb all over her.

It didn't take long before Luna sensed his presence and ran towards him with a beaming smile. "Harry, you're back!"

Before he could give a reply, the four children climbing over the amused direwolf cried out their own greetings and clambered over to him.

Harry could only huff in amusement at their enthusiasm. He was honestly a little confused at why they liked him so much given that his involvement in their parenting was mostly restricted to an hour or two of interaction per day. One of those parenting mysteries he'd never figured out most likely.

"Did you kill those fuckin' slavers?" Hala asked with a bloodthirsty grin.

It should be noted that the free folk not only did not have a child-friendly speech filter, they didn't even comprehend why one would be necessary. Life was hard, and then you died and if you were really unlucky you got back up. Soft language wouldn't change that.

"Beat them to a bloody pulp. The last one actually pissed himself." Harry nodded. He hadn't ever bothered filtering his speech around children either, much to the irritation of pretty much every woman around him. Except Luna.

"Serves the fuckers right." Sigrid said with satisfaction, getting noises of agreement from Oak and Ava...and also from the children, cutely enough. They had no idea what they were cheering for of course, but they knew that their parents were for it.

"And how have you little monsters been?" Harry asked, switching his attention to the increasingly more demanding children tugging at his trousers. "Keeping your mothers busy?"

"Uh huh!" Sigmar and Jala giggled. Those two were the most energetic of the lot and always happy to be the focus of attention.

"I was good." Havel said as seriously as an almost-two-year-old can. He was already significantly taller than his siblings.

"What about you, Nenya." Harry asked the smallest of the four. "Have you been good?"

The little girl looked up at him with huge emerald eyes set in a face that was more delicate and round than that of her siblings and nodded silently, too busy gnawing on a small wooden horse carving to talk. Then she raised up her arms in a silent request to be picked up.

Long since desensitized to awkwardness around children due to the sheer number of them he'd had, even Harry couldn't deny that it was cute.

"No fair!" Jala predictably cried out at the injustice of it as soon as he picked up her half-sister. "Me too!"

This situation was also very familiar and he dealt with it in the same manner as always, by casting levitation charms on the other three.

Jala, Sigmar and Havel shrieked with delight and flailed their limbs in the air, completely forgetting their desire to be held by their father. Luna helped by tickling them.

This of course got the less mobile Garm, Tarkus and Sindri fussy about the lack of attention being paid to them, so the next thirty or so minutes were spent exhausting the seven little demons until adult conversation was possible again.

As if she had divining powers specifically tuned towards the avoidance of interaction with children, Adrastia chose that moment to walk in.

"Good news." She said, her voice carefully pitched to not disturb the drowsy children. "The Stark party will set off towards Castle Black tomorrow morning, and young Edwyle is coming with them."

Harry didn't comment on how this was good news only for her. "Oh? I figured the brat would let his uncle handle it."

Adrastia smirked. "He seems to have developed a personal interest in the matter."

A personal interest that her expression suggested had been planted into the boy's dreams by Adrastia herself. Her growing mastery of the Glass Candles now allowed her to do such things.

"What do we care about the fuckin' Starks?" Sigrid grumbled, gently bouncing Sindri in her lap. "They've been helpin' the crows kill us since forever."

"It is important that they know us as a power to be feared." Adrastia explained. "Additionally, you may be interested to know that your brother is also intending to make his way here soon."

That got Sigrid smiling brightly and she quickly turned to her sons. "Did you hear that boys? Your uncle is coming to visit!"

Sigmar and Sindri had no real idea what that meant, but they saw their mother's obvious excitement and reacted accordingly, which started a chain reaction with the other five.

Adrastia vanished like smoke as soon as the sound of children babbling filled the room again.

XXXXX

27th day of the 4th moon, 236 AC. Castle Black, Lord Commander's solar.

"You mean to tell me that you have done nothing in the past two years?" Artos Stark demanded dangerously.

"I mean to tell you that we have been unable to do anything." Jack Musgood retorted heavily, looking even older than his numerous years. "A dark enchantment now lies upon the Haunted Forest. Even my most experienced rangers, men who have traversed that wood for decades, have their wits abandon them soon after entering it. Confusion clouds their mind and they find themselves walking in circles no matter what they try."

"The Sorcerer warned me that he would do this, but even I did not anticipate the full reach of his power." Brynden Rivers added grimly. "Nothing seems to escape his sight, as he claimed. I would not be surprised if he already knows of your arrival."

Artos kept the distaste he felt for Bloodraven off his face. The man was an oathbraker, but his past sins were to be forgotten when he took the black. Still, it was hard.

"Surely he cannot be all-seeing?" Edwyle Stark, the recently ascended Lord Stark, interjected with a frown.

"I do not believe he is, but he clearly sees much that we do not." Maester Aemon said pensively. "I have received word from the Citadel that three of their four Glass Candles and a number of books have been stolen at about the same time as the Sorcerer appeared. If he was the one to take them – as I suspect – then he could use them to scry halfway across the world according to the old lore. Certainly, we do not know of any means to hide from such observation."

"He also made indirect claims of being a greenseer and a skinchanger, and that birds, beasts and trees speak to him." Brynden sounded even grimmer than before.

"Yes, there is also that." Aemon nodded wearily. "Ravens and crows do seem unusually curious about us lately, more than I would expect even from such intelligent birds, and Brynden said that the Sorcerer's tower was contantly circled by vast flocks of them. I fear we must assume that they spy for him as well."

The two Starks were deeply disturbed by this. How do you fight a man that knows your every move? Every general worth his salt knew that the information brought to him by his scouts could be incomplete or even false. Making war on an enemy that had perfect information would be a nightmare perhaps even worse than one who had dragons at his command. To make matters even worse, if the Sorcerer could use his clear affinity for ravens to disrupt communication, they would be left stumbling in the dark while he read their missives.

A commotion in the hall brought them out of their dire contemplation, and a black brother barged into the solar without knocking.

"Lord Commander!" He gasped, clearly having ran all the way.

"What?" Musgood growled, more than a bit annoyed by the interruption.

"Giant crow...in the courtyard!" The man gasped out.

"What are you talking about, a giant crow?" Musgood barked.

"Calm down and take a deep breath." Brynden advised, seeing that the winded man was barely coherent in his urgency.

He took the advice and took a few deep breaths before speaking. "There's a giant crow perching on the ramparts. It...well, it spoke, in a woman's voice, saying that it had a message for Lord Stark."

The five men looked at each other for a moment, not really knowing how to react, and then wordlessly made their way to the courtyard.

To their shocked disbelief, there actually was a giant crow on the ramparts. It wasn't that they thought the black brother who brought the news a liar, but this wasn't something that could be readily believed.

There were numerous black brothers in the courtyard already, clutching bows or spears, but the creature didn't seem unduly worried about them.

"Greetings." The giant crow spoke in a deep, but not unpleasant, female voice. "I am Velka, and I come bearing a message from my father to Edwyle Stark."

They all gaped in shock for a long moment.

"Your father is the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur?" Brynden asked cautiously, quicker to regain his composure than the others.

"Yes." Velka confirmed.

"Before we hear your message, I want to know what gives your 'father' the right to confound my rangers and prevent them from doing their duty." Lord Commander Musgood demanded strongly, although there was a frazzled edge to his tone that betrayed how off balance he truly was.

Despite his dislike of the man, Artos approved of the question.

"What gives you the right to stalk the lands beyond the Wall and kill the people living there?" Velka rejoindered. "The True North is closed to you until further notice, by decree of the Raven Lord."

That left them with no real response. The lands beyond the Wall had always been a lawless place filled with nothing but savages, but the great crow's words implied that it was being demanded of them to give the wildlings the same respect as they would to the people of the Seven Kingdoms, in which case the rangers of the Night's Watch were essentially engaging in brigandry in the execution of their duties.

Edwyle and Artos especially didn't like that. They had lost a father and a brother, respectively, in Willam Stark during Raymun Redbeard's invasion of the North ten years ago. Their feelings towards the wildlings were anything but charitable, and they certainly didn't think them worthy of respect.

"The Sorcerer styles himself as King-Beyond-the-wall, then?" Artos asked sourly.

But Velka ignored him, choosing instead to focus on his nephew. "Lord Stark, your approach has been noted and guest rights are extended to you and your party if you wish to come to Dol Guldur."

Edwyle was somewhat surprised by that. He'd had no intention of going any further north, but now that the protection of guest rights had been offered...

"And how do we know this isn't a trap?" Artos glared, incensed by the dismissal but far more worried about his nephew's safety. The wildlings would certainly relish the chance to kill a Stark.

Velka made a derisive croaking sound. "If my father wished you harm then he need not bother with a trap. Even in Winterfell you are within the strike range of his magic."

That sent a cold chill down Artos and Edwyle's spines. The thought of Winterfell not being safe was like a crack in the foundation on which their world view was built.

Edwyle knew that it was a great risk, but what other choice was there? With the Night's Watch crippled in their ability to gather intelligence on the Sorcerer's doings, there was no telling what kind of foe they might face in a few years. Guest rights had been offered, and he had to believe that no follower of the Old Gods would ever break the laws of hospitality, no matter what else they were.

Edwyle mustered his courage and gave the great crow a resolute look. "Tell your father that we accept his invitation."

"Nephew!" Artos hissed in alarm. "You are barely a man grown, and you have no heirs as of yet. I ask you, return to Winterfell and allow me to act on your behalf in this."

Edwyle looked at his uncle with a worried frown. "What use is there in hiding if the Sorcerer can attack us anywhere? I must get the measure of this man for myself if I am to do my duty as Warden of the North."

Artos was proud of his nephew, no question about it, but this was too reckless.

"What of the wildlings?" Artos continued to argue. "We could easily be waylaid on the way, and they may not care for guest rights extended to us by another."

"An escort will find you shortly after you enter the Haunted Forest." Velka interjected mysteriously.

"Enough, Uncle." Edwyle said firmly, his mind made. "This must be done. If the worst comes to pass and I perish, you have two sons that can inherit Winterfell after me."

Artos was unhappy about it, but nodded his acquiescence.

"We will await your arrival." The great crow dipped her head and lifted off with a tremendous flap of her black wings, sending out a gust of wind that nearly toppled some of the less steady men staring at her.

It took some time for the surreality of the situation to really sink in. They had just been talking to a giant crow who claimed that her father was a man...or was he in truth some other creature pretending to be a man? The question would bother everyone there for a long time, and spawn several rumors.

XXXXX

29th day of the 4th moon, 236 AC. Beyond the Wall.

After taking a day to rest, the Stark party set out once more, this time accompanies by Bloodraven and a handful of his rangers.

None of them knew what to expect of the 'escort' that Velka had promised them, so they were tense and guarded as they crossed into the Haunted Forest.

When a weirdwood dryad appeared to them, they were too dumbstruck to do anything other than stare.

"Are you one of the Old Gods?" Edwyle eventually managed to ask.

The dryad simply nodded and motioned for them to follow.

"I think she is the escort that we were promised." Bloodraven said, disbelief still coloring his tone.

He exchanged a glance with Artos and Edwyle while their men-at-arms and rangers muttered amongst themselves. All three of them wondered what manner of creature Harry truly was.

XXXXX

15th day of the 5th moon, 236 AC. Dol Guldur.

"In the most basic sense, alchemy is the art of altering the world around you by means of understanding its composition." Harry lectured to his small class of students. "Oak, which law of magic in particular does this pertain to?"

The short, heavily pregnant woman thought about it for a second before giving an answer. "The Law of Knowledge, because having knowledge of something gives you power over it."

"Exactly." He praised, holding back an amused smile at the pleased flush of pink that appeared on her cheeks. "Those of you present here have shown sufficient aptitude and understanding of my preavious teaching to make me think that you have what it takes to learn alchemy, so please don't waste my time with half-hearted effort."

They all nodded seriously. It was a small group; besides Oak there were also three Earthsingers, including Leaf, two woods witches and one old greybeard in his fifties whose intelligence had gone to waste with no opportunity to exercise it.

It had been a bit of a shock to realize that just about everyone seemed capable of potioncraft, alchemy and similarly low-magic pursuits. They couldn't necessarily do things that required actual spellcasting, but they could certainly mix magical ingredients and use magical instruments, something that Earth's mundane population couldn't do. It had been another thing on a growing list of oddities he was compiling about this new world.

For example, the Hornfoot clan of free folk. They lived in the Frostfangs and wore no shoes. By all rights, their feet should have frozen and turned gangrenous, but that wasn't what happened. Instead, blackened and became resilient enough to endure the harsh conditions. That wasn't how biology worked, so it had to be magic, yet he hadn't detected more than two skinchangers among the Hornfoots, much less anything that would explain what happened with their feet.

It was like everyone on this world was a squib or something, but he couldn't detect any magic in them...or perhaps it was a thing so subtle that it blended into the background.

More and more it was becoming evident that magic simply worked differently here than on Earth. At least, it expressed itself differently. Yes, you had to be born with the gift to do any serious magic and it didn't seem like it would prove impossible for such gifted people to perform Earth-style magic with proper teaching, but it probably would be an uphill struggle because that wasn't what it was meant for. As a tradeoff, inherent gifts were rife and localized to certain groups of people, with neutral magics like potions and alchemy seemingly available to all.

For Harry, that was almost like coming to a new planet and noticing that the laws of physics were just a shade off and he had to relearn all the rules that he'd taken for granted all these centuries.

Needless to say, he was loving it. Progress was slow, but he had an abundance of time and the implications were much larger than they seemed at first glance. Two different yet compatible systems of magic implied a common origin. Harry had long been frustrated by his inability to pin down the Source of Magic (with mandatory capitalisation), so this provided him with new information towards that goal.

In the meanwhile, he also taught others. The act of teaching was likewise a form of learning.

"Any alchemical process has four distinct stages." Harry continued lecturing. "These are nigredo, albedo, citrinitas and rubedo."

He waited for them to write that down before moving on. "Nigredo is the stage of putrefaction or decomposition, the dissolution into base components. Albedo is the stage of purification, where the base components are cleansed of their previous associations. Citrinitas is the stage of reconstruction, using the purified substance gained from albedo to create something new. Finally, rubedo is the stage of hardening or stabilization, where the new creation is imbued with its own unique identity that prevents it from unraveling. This is of course merely an overview of the alchemical process and each individual stage has multiple sub-stages that require extensive knowledge to do correctly. We will begin with-"

A knock on the door interrupted him, and Adrastia poked her head into the classroom without waiting for a response.

"Harry, the Stark party is almost here." She said. "You should get ready."

Harry exhaled irritably and then nodded to her. He had agreed to do this after all, he just hadn't thought they'd have such bad timing.

"We'll start on nigredo next time." He said to his students. "There should be some materials on alchemy in the magic section of the library, so be sure to read up on it before then."

While he hadn't been hauling around a copy of every book in Spellhaven's vast library, it was still a collection of knowledge both magical and mundane that outstripped what the Order of Maesters had. The decision to bring it out of hammerspace so that others could benefit from it was a large chunk of the reason why he and Luna hadn't gone on any trips in the past two years. They were still sorting it out.

XXXXX

A few minutes later found Harry standing on top of his tower alongside Luna.

"The village is really coming along." She said with a smile, looking down at the land around Dol Guldur.

"Quite." He replied dryly, recalling the momentary consternation and immediate realization that had followed when people first started settling down around his tower in a permanent fashion.

Adrastia had pulled a fast one on him. For sure, she might have wanted servants to boss around, but that wasn't the real reason she'd convinced all those women to stay a couple of years ago.

Unattached women attracted men. Guests would pass through and some fucking would inevitably take place. The passing men would ask the women they'd fucked to come with them, but the women usually didn't want to give up the comfort and safety Dol Guldur provided, so they convinced the men to stay instead. Controlled by their cocks as usual, the men agreed. However, unlike the women, the men were not happy being permanent guests in the tower and preferred to have their own space, which was how the village below started forming.

It was at that point that Adrastia had 'casually' let slip that he would teach people how to build better, warmer homes if they asked, which was true. He would scoff if they asked him to do it for them, but the manipulative woman knew damn well that he wouldn't refuse anyone that genuinely wanted to learn. This was helped along by the fact that the free folk were generally too proud to ever ask anyone to do something for them, but they weren't averse to listening to someone they respected.

So Harry ended up teaching them how to make partially underground homes, work stone, make cement and concrete, slap the whole thing together, mix up an airtight coating from tree resin to keep out moisture, how to build and most importantly in this climate, how to make an efficient heating system. Fireplaces might look nice, but energy efficient they were not.

There was skepticism at first, but nobody voiced their doubts too loudly. After the first house was built, the skepticism was replaced with enthusiasm. Now everyone was eager to use their newly learned skills to make homes for themselves, there was even a growing sense of community as they helped each other do it. He was thinking of showing them how to build an aqueduct and a primitive plumbing system next.

And of course, Bragni was less ornery than him and happy to use his growing skills as a blacksmith to provide both the tools and any specialized items to do all this with. The boy, now more of a young man actually, had also moved out of the tower with his own woman and growing brood of children not that long ago.

Harry could only watch it happen with exasperated amusement. The signs had all been there, Adrastia hadn't been going out of her way to hide what she was doing and would have told him if he'd asked, but he hadn't done so. The crafty old monster had set up the pieces to make sure everything would snowball according to her design, while still being able to say that she hadn't done anything that he would disapprove of.

Be nice to the neighbours, Harry. Less trouble in the long run.

The boy wants to learn blacksmithing from you, Harry. You like teaching, don't you?

How about making some children, Harry? For science of course.

I just want some servants, Harry. Don't worry, you won't even notice they're here.

It was like fighting a war and winning every battle only to find out you somehow lost in the end. Hilarious, really.

Now he had a rising number of people living around his tower that considered him something between a chieftain, prophet of the Old Gods and an outright god himself. Oh, and that pride of theirs meant that they also considered themselves to be in his debt. Not just to him either, as Luna was happy to heal the occasional injury or sickness and do some teaching of her own.

At this rate, he was going to end up as some kind of god-king, which was no doubt Adrastia's plan.

The situation would be a lot more irritating if the free folk weren't so individualistic. Even if they saw him as a leader, none of them really expected him to solve their problems for them. At worst, they'd ask for advice on how they could fix it themselves and rally behind him if there was fighting to be done, so Harry wasn't inclined to do more than amusedly concede that Adrastia had played the game with her usual subtlety and cunning.

Plus, he was admittedly kind of curious as to what she'd do if given enough time. He knew that she had her sights set on the Iron Throne, not to sit on it, but to be the power behind it. How she intended to achieve this he couldn't discern just yet, but it should be interesting to watch so he didn't mind playing the part of the figurehead from time to time.

Speaking off...

"Ah, there are our guests." Harry said, seeing the Stark party emerge from the southern tree line.

Luna just hummed and started playfully swinging their joined hands back and forth as they watched the slow approach.

"Oh, they have so many wrackspurts." She said sympathetically once they were close enough.

Harry grinned widely in amusement and started chuckling. Luna's unique way of saying that people were confused never stopped being funny, especially when she did it to their face.

"Well then, let's go see if we can't do something about that." He said and jumped off the tower.

"Whee!" Luna squealed as she did the same.

XXXXX

The journey through the Haunted forest had been nerve-wracking in the extreme. They met no one, but the living god that walked beside them was unsettling enough.

She did not seem capable of speaking, but she understood what they were saying and could nod or shake her head. In this manner they had found out that her existence was indeed the Sorcerer's doing.

Edwyle kept up a confident air for the men, but he was deeply uneasy. The old tales of his forefathers, the past Lords of Winterfell and the ancient Kings of Winter before them, never spoke of this gnawing uncertainty. What was the right course?

His first impulse had been to call his banners and march on the Sorcerer,bu t what now that it seemed as if he was favored by the Old Gods? How many of his bannermen would willingly fight against such a man?

When they finally reached Dol Guldur, his unease only increased.

The tower itself was quite imposing; tall, black and intimidating. It was what was around it, however, that truly worried him.

Sturdy stone houses, looking far better built than any smallfolk dwelling he had ever seen before. There were wildlings building more of them with tools of steel, pouring what looked like liquid rock into moulds. Their furs were also looking substantially less ragged than he was used to. Women ushered children away and men stared at them with suspicious, hostile eyes. Many looked as if they might have made an issue of their presence, if not for their escort.

It was an odd experience, to see wildlings as anything more than screaming barbarians out to rape and plunder the North. Regardless of that, what he was seeing here was an entirely new problem. The wildlings caused enough trouble when they were just scattered bands of savages, how much worse would it be if this cursed Sorcerer forged the lands beyond the Wall into a proper kingdom? If he could raise proper armies with arms and armor of forged steel instead of haggard and poorly equipped hordes? What if he inducted others into his dark arts? What if he had children and they inherited his powers?

The thought plagued Edwyle's mind as they rode slowly through the burgeoning village and towards the base of the tower, doing his best to seem unconcerned by the stares. If the men-at-arms thought he was in danger and drew steel in spite of his instructions, they were all dead.

"Look, up on the summit." Bloodraven said quietly, making a subtle gesture with just his head. "The Sorcerer and his wife, if I am not mistaken."

The former Hand of the King may have only one eye, but it was sharp. There were indeed two people standing atop the tower.

And then they jumped off, drawing shocked exclamation from their men-at-arms.

Edwyle had only a moment to be baffled as to why they would kill themselves, but that thought was wiped from his mind as they actually slowed down and stopped in the air to levitate before them.

"Gods be good..." He heard one of the men-at-arms mutter.

The Sorcerer looked to be no older than thirty and was dressed in quality, if simple, clothing. A dark blue tunic and black trousers of odd design, and an ankle-length black robe that was open at the front. That came as a surprise, because despite Bloodraven's descriptions, he had been expecting furs.

The man's wife looked even younger and as harmless looking as Bloodraven said, dressed similarly to her husband, only in brighter colors of dark blue and white.

"Hello again, Brynden!" The small woman exclaimed with seemingly genuine happiness, completely breaking all protocol as she swooped in until she was right in front of the black brother's face. "Did you have a good trip?"

Bloodraven looked as baffled and unsettled as Edwyle felt, but the man managed to pull himself together quickly enough to not seem rude with his lack of reply. "Ah, yes, it was the easiest journey beyond the Wall I've ever undertaken. I thank you for your concern, my lady."

"Please call me Luna." The little witch said with a sunny smile. "We're friends after all."

They were? Judging by the flicker of surprise on Bloodraven's face, this was news to him as well.

"Very well, Luna." The man agreed smoothly nonetheless, apparently deciding not to argue about how inappropriate such familiarity was.

Edwyle was still stuck on the fact that these two magic users were apparently able to fly, not on dragons or some other beast, but under their own power.

"Oi..." The Sorcerer interjected with a tone of utter boredom. "Are you lot going to dismount so that we can get on with this?"

Edwyle was torn between astonishment and outrage at the disrespect. He'd never been treated so dismissively in his entire life. This was simply not how the lord of a Great House was spoken to.

His uncle apparently agreed. "Have a care how you speak to the Lord Stark!"

"Listen to the little dog barking." The Sorcerer mocked, his face twisting with a dark amusement. "Idiot children and their hollow pride, you think you can come to my home and lecture me on how I talk to people? Try it again and you'll spend the rest of your life believing that you are a six-year-old girl."

The walking weirdwood beside them shifted and seemed to look at the floating man disapprovingly.

"Keep your bark on, I know I promised them guest rights." The Sorcerer snorted.

The living god nodded in what seemed like satisafaction and walked off.

"You can talk to her?" Bloodraven wondered.

"Anyone can talk to her, if they know how to listen."

"She and her sisters are like daughters to us." Luna chimed in. "Our love and magic created them."

What a terrifying prospect, that a man could sire gods. Was he even a man?

"Sisters?" Artos asked, blanching a little.

"Yes, there are many dryads in the Haunted Forest now." Luna nodded happily. "We're going to be making more further south as well soon, now that the winter is over."

Edwyle shared a wide-eyed look with his uncle, both of them easily able to imagine the trouble it would cause. The reaction of the southrons and their Faith of the Seven aside, most Northmen would be very conflicted on the matter.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Edwyle asked warily, suspecting a plot to destabilize the realm.

"Because they're beautiful." Luna replied, cocking her head sideways in a way that made him feel that his intelligence was being questioned.

"Get off your horses already and let's go inside." Harry interjected impatiently. "I won't repeat myself again."

"Of course." Bloodraven said graciously and dismounted, looking around himself pointedly. "I see you've been gathering people to you."

It was a blatant change of subject, but nobody called him on it.

"Hmph, not on purpose." The Sorcerer scoffed , descending to the ground as soon as they had all dismounted. "Power always attracts hangers-on, but at least these are less annoying than usual."

"I'll take care of the horses while you boys talk." Luna interjected cheerfully, having also drifted down to the ground, which revealed how truly small she was.

Edwyle was just as hesitant to hand her the reins of his horse as everyone else. Castles had a master of horse to take to look after the beasts. The lady of the castle, which was what they all equated Luna to, was certainly not the one that should be doing it by their reckoning, especially given how tiny she was.

"Come on, horsies, I've got some juicy carrots for you." Luna said and, much to their bewilderment, the horses perked up and eagerly followed her as if they actually understood the words.

"Come on." Harry commanded with a jerk of his head before turning around and walking into his tower without waiting to see if they would follow.

Left with no real choice in the matter, they all followed behind the magic user.

Edwyle didn't let the dismay show on his face as he took in the reflective black stone floors and arcane crystal lamps, or when he heard the impressed mutters of his men. How much wealth did the Sorcerer have if a mere hallway could display so much? Kings-Beyond-the-Wall were bad enough without Lannister levels of wealth to work with.

Shortly thereafter they entered a room that wiped away all thoughts of wealth from Edwyle's mind, although not because it was not richly appointed.

It certainly was, but the direwolf snoozing at the side of a sitting woman commanded all of his attention.

"Harry!" The woman said, standing up and making her way over to the Sorcerer.

She was very tall for a woman and quite beautiful, wearing a scandalous pair of tight leather breeches and a front-laced vest that exposed her arms and a good deal of her breasts. It would have been completely unacceptable for a woman to wear such a thing anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms...except perhaps in Dorne.

"Hala." Harry replied with a smile and leaned down to give the woman a quick kiss, also taking the opportunity to grope her behind.

Envy warred with confusion in Edwyle's mind. Wasn't the Sorcerer married to Luna? Was this some kind of mistress or second wife?

And then envy warred with fear as the great direwolf padded over and nuzzled the magic user. The magnificent creature was the totem of his House, and it growled at them in warning as the men fearfully clutched their weapons.

"Oi..." Harry spoke with such a tone that everyone froze. "Draw those weapons and Ash will have you for lunch."

As if to punctuate this statement, the direwolf licked its chops and stared at them.

"Hala will take your guardsmen to their accomodations." He continued and pinned said guardsmen with a hard stare. "She's my woman, so treat her with respect, or else."

"M'lord." The guardsmen were quick to acknowledge, their fearful expressions clearly showing how much they didn't want to find out what would happen if they failed to heed the warning. They were led away without protest, the direwolf trotting easily at Hala's side. Edwyle was sad to see them go.

"I didn't know you had any other wives other than Luna." Bloodraven commented a minute later.

"I don't, strictly speaking." Harry replied. "I stole myself a few of the local women not long after our last meeting."

"Local?" Artos cut in. "Does that mean you are a foreigner?"

"Indeed, I've only been in Westeros for about three years."

Edwyle exchanged a wide-eyed look with his uncle at that before asking the next question. "Where did you come from then?"

"A land far, far away." The Sorcerer chuckled. "You wouldn't have heard of it."

"But you have the look and name of a Westerosi!" Artos protested.

"Yes, it's quite a mystery, isn't it?"

Artos huffed irritably, but said no more.

Soon, they were led into a room with a small table, upon which sat a loaf of bread and a jar of salt.

The Summer Islands woman, Adrastia. that Bloodraven had mentioned was already inside. Edwyle assumed she was a trusted advisor of some sort, although he thought it strange for a woman to be so. A woman's domain was the household, not the state.

"Greetings, my lords. I am Adrastia." She said courteously with a smile that sent Edwyle's heart racing. She was very beautiful in an exotic sort of way, and the dark purple dress she was wearing hugged her incredible body in all the right places.

The proper courtly greeting was like safe harbor in a storm and Edwyle latched onto it immediately.

"My lady, Bloodraven's tales of your beauty did not do you justice." He said as he kissed her hand.

"You flatter me, Lord Stark." Her laugh was like tinkling bells to his ear.

Then she turned to his uncle. "And this must be the mighty Artos the Implacable. I've heard such tales of how you broke Raymun Redbeard's army."

Edwyle felt a flash of jealousy at how impressed she sounded. He had no great deeds to his name to impress her with.

"He invaded the North, him and his wildlings." Artos replied stonily. "I did my duty."

"And so humble." Adrastia's smile didn't dip at all, seemingly unbothered by the stiff reply. "Come, sit and partake of our bread and salt."

They all did so, eagerly ripping off hunks of the incredibly soft bread and dipping it into the salt to place themselves under guest protections properly.

The softness of the bread caused Edwyle yet more consternation. Even the Reach didn't make bread this soft. Where did they get the wheat anyway?

"So, what the fuck do you want?" Harry asked bluntly.

The coarse question startled them a bit. Northmen may typically have rougher manners than the southron kingdoms, but this was a whole other level.

But before they could respond, the door banged open and a diminituve creature about four feet tall at the very most barged in.

"Harry, Oak has gone into labor!" It cried in excitement. "Come quick!"

Then it ran back out.

"For fucks sake, is it 'interrupt Harry while he's in the middle of something' day?" Harry grumbled and stood up, walking towards the door. "I'll be back later, I have to help my woman deliver her baby."

And with that, a stunned Artos, Edwyle and Bloodraven were left alone in the room with Adrastia.

"Was that...a Child of the Forest?" Edwyle stuttered in shock.

"Yes, a few of them have been living in the tower for about a year now, learning magic from Harry." Adrastia replied casually, as if it was of little importance.

The sensation of being in way over his head that had been plaguing Edwyle ever since a giant crow spoke to him abruptly got even worse.

XXXXX

After the potentially fatal complications Oak had suffered during the birth of her first child, Harry and Luna had put in the time to learn some magical midwifery. That took a bit of creativity given their lack of mentors or people to practice on, but they did manage to make the experience shorter and safer.

"A redhead?" Harry noted with amusement when his latest daughter was cleaned of birthing fluids. "That's new. None of my kids have been born with red hair before." His mother's genes must have managed to break through, or perhaps gotten mixed up with something from Oak's side of things.

"She is kissed by fire." Oak said, lovingly stroking the newborn's red fuzz and staring into her green eyes. "'Tis an omen of good luck."

"Really?" Luna asked happily. "That's great."

"Her name will be Narya." Harry stated. Naming her after the elven Ring of Fire was a no-brainer with the whole 'kissed by fire' thing.

"Narya." Oak repeated with a wide smile, clearly happy with the name.

XXXXX

When Harry made it back to the designated meeting room, it became immediately clear that Adrastia had been hard at work with their guests.

Brynden and Artos looked a good deal more relaxed and Edwyle looked positively infatuated. The poor bastard.

It almost made him wonder if Adrastia had somehow managed to trigger Oak's childbirth at just the right moment to give herself this opportunity, but he quickly dismissed it. The geas would have prevented that. Sometimes coincidences were in fact just concidences.

"Sorry about that." He said as he retook his seat.

"Are mother and child alright?" Adrastia asked with heartfelt and completely fake concern.

"Of course." Harry played along with a nod. "And get this, the girl was born with red hair of all things."

"Oh? She already sounds like she's going to be quite the heartbreaker when she grows up." The Black Widow joked.

"Congratulations on your daughter, my lord." Brynden said politely. "Is it your first child?"

"Hells no." Harry snorted. "My eighth in Westeros, and I had many more before coming here."

"You are blessed then, I will pray for the good health of all your children." Edwyle spoke up, giving the usual courtly platitudes.

It was a bit of a struggle to refrain from telling the boy to not waste his time with prayer, but he managed. Barely.

"So, let's get back to the point." He said instead. "What the fuck do you want?"

Adrastia must have really done some serious work on these stiffs, because they didn't puff up like a couple of offended roosters at the coarse language.

"What are your intentions towards the North?" Edwyle asked.

"I see Adrastia has taught you how to talk to me." Harry grinned at the bluntness. "To answer your question, I have no intentions towards the North. My interest is in magic, not politics."

"You are becoming King-Beyond-the-Wall." Artos pointed out with a slight scoff.

"Boy, I was already old when Valyria fell." Harry drank up the shock on their faces like a fine wine. "I once ruled as king over a nation of magic users in a land so far away that no one in what you term 'the Known World' has heard even the rumor of a rumor of it, and held my crown for two hundred years before passing it on to my son. What you saw brewing outside? It means nothing, merely people flocking to power. They might call me King-Beyond-the-Wall one day, but I've long outgrown interests as mundane as conquest. If I wanted to rule again I could have made myself Aegon Targaryen's court wizard and used that position to destabilize his reign and eventually usurp the Iron Throne. I could have gone to Essos and forged an empire that would make the Valyrian Freehold look like nothing. I could have become the unseen shadow king that moves you blind mortals around like puppets for my amusement. I could have crafted magic rings that would have made you my slaves as soon as you put them on your fingers. I could have done any number of things and nobody would have been able to stop me, yet here I am, on the frozen roof of the world where I have to deal with the least amount of politics."

There was a long, shocked silence as the two Starks and Bloodraven processed the short speech.

"As you can see, there is no need to be concerned that Harry will attack your lands." Adrastia said persuasively. "His eyes have always been on the sky rather than the earth."

"That is a relief to hear." Edwyle admitted. "Not having to worry about wildling raids anymore would be a great boon for the North."

"Don't get too relaxed." Harry snorted. "Just because I have no intention of invading you doesn't mean that you won't still be raided. None of the people clustering around me have been the type so far, but I'm sure that some dumb hotheads will eventually turn up who think that climbing the Wall and attacking the North proves how manly they are."

"And you will do nothing to stop this?" Artos demanded angrily.

"Haven't you been listening?" The wizard mocked. "I'm interested in magic, not politics. Telling people what to do and how to live their lives is politics. If they ask me to lead any raiding parties or invasions I'll call them stupid shits and tell them to fuck off, but if they go off on their own then that's none of my business."

"So essentially, nothing will change for the North." Edwyle summed up while his uncle fumed.

"You're likely to see an overall decrease in raids because I'll be a closer target, but other than that...no, not much will change." Harry confirmed.

Edwyle was silent for a long moment. "That was resolved quicker than I expected."

"That's what happens when you get to the fucking point right away."

"What about the Night's Watch?" Brynden interjected. "At the moment, your confounding spells are preventing us from doing our duty."

"You have no reason to be traipsing through the Haunted Forest, agitating the free folk and getting them all worked up." Harry said. "I won't have you causing me trouble out of some misguided notion that you have to blunder about my backyard."

"You say we have no reason to range beyond the Wall, yet how else are we to keep track of raiders?" Bloodraven argued.

"Your troubles are of no concern to me." Harry stated flatly.

"Come now, Harry, there is no need to be so unreasonable." Adrastia purred, placing her hand on his. "What if the Night's Watch asked you permission before sending out ranging parties and had one of your ravens as an escort?"

"The Night's Watch has ranged beyond the Wall and protected the realms of men for thousands of years!" Artos exclaimed indignantly. "It does not answer to kings or lords, nor to sorcerers!"

"Don't be a fool." Harry snorted. "Everyone answers to powers greater than them, whether they like it or not. I am willing to entertain Adrastia's suggestion, take it up with Musgood and ask a raven, any raven, to deliver your answer to me."

Bloodraven nodded reluctantly, knowing it was the best he'd get.

Another length silence descended before Edwyle broke it.

"Could we perhaps make some kind of trade agreement?" He had obviously noticed the casual wealth of Dol Guldur compared to the dreary rock pile he lived in and wanted to benefit from it.

Too bad.

"You have nothing that I want." Harry shrugged.

These Starks sure knew how to make a good constipated expression. They may not be Lannisters, Targaryens or Tyrells, but the Starks were still a House Paramount and definitely not used to being brushed off.

"Why don't we put off any further discussion for later?" Adrastia gently interjected. "The midday meal should be ready soon and we could use the opportunity to get to know each other a little better before diving into any heavy topics."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but received only a look of purest innocence in return. Then he shrugged uncaringly. "Fine."

XXXXX

Any further discussion didn't materialize that day, or the day after, or any of the days after that.

The Stark party ended up staying for a week, but Harry had already lost interest after that first conversation. He had nothing more to say to them.

This sort of neglect to a noble guest, much less a high lord, would be considered a serious social faux pas in the Seven Kingdoms, but as Artos and Edwyle learned, nobody gave a shit about their ancient bloodline north of the Wall.

Over their stay, they met the rest of Harry's family, talked to the Children of the Forest present at Dol Guldur, snooped around to see if they could learn anything, ate a variety of food that a king would envy and perhaps most importantly, slowly realized that the wildlings they hated so much weren't all that different from them.

Artos also frowned disapprovingly as Edwyle received nightly visits from Adrastia, but the Lord Stark was too enchanted by the Black Widow's wiles to care.

"What of his sons? What if they wish to make war on the North?" Edwyle asked in frustration, his head laid on Adrastia's thigh.

She smiled in amusement, running her fingers through the boy's hair. "He would say that they have their own lives to live and their own choices to make. If they decide to make war on you, then he will teach them the ways of war, arm them and advise them. He may advise that their decision is foolish, but he will not stop them from making it."

"I suppose he would also refuse a betrothal between any childen I might have and his own?"

Edwyle had spent the past week trying to learn as much about his hosts as possible and come to the conclusion that Harry and Luna truly weren't part of the same world as everyone else. They walked and talked and looked like everyone else, but they were something else. Something...not of this world.

But the other four women Harry claimed as his, and the children he had with them... They were more relatable and he wanted to make certain that the North would not be threatened by them. They were all First Men, surely an understanding could be reached.

"Indeed. He does not think it a parent's place to make such decisions for their children." Adrastia said with a nod.

Edwyle had been afraid of that. Negotiating with Harry was like negotiating with the gods. You could ask, but they would always do whatever they wanted in the end.

"Still, that does not mean you lack for options." She continued. "Harry will not refuse if you ask him to teach your children and they may find themselves interested in his while they are here."

"Having my children taught by a sorcerer beyond the Wall?" Edwyle shook his head with a sigh. "My bannermen would call me mad and the southrons with their septons would be frothing at the mouth. Even the King may get involved."

"Would they not do the same with a betrothal?" Adrastia asked pointedly.

"Aye, they would. For a first son or daughter at least, perhaps not for a third or fourth."

"Then keep it in mind for a third son or daughter."

They lapsed into silence for a while before Edwyle sighed and looked up at the beatiful, dark woman that had so completely captured his attention.

"Would you come to Winterfell with me if I asked?"

"Don't be foolish." Adrastia chuckled, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction at the heartbreak on his face. She still had it. "You need to marry the daughter of one of your bannermen and I would never give you children anyway. Besides, the chains that bind me to Harry may be long, but they aren't that long."

"I can hardly believe he keeps you enslaved. Has the man no shame?" Edwyle asked bitterly.

"No need to be so dramatic, it is more like indentured servitude. He would let me go if I asked, but I rely on him too much to ever do so."

"It is still not right." He insisted stubbornly.

Adrastia neary rolled her eyes at his white-knighting. The little fool understood that a noble countenance could hide a monster, but it hadn't occured to him that a woman's soft appearance could do the same. She had chewed up and spat out the bones of hundreds of men just like him.

"It is what it is." She said instead. "Will you remember me fondly when you return home?"

They were leaving tomorrow.

"Always." Edwyle promised, a fool to the end.

XXXXX

17th day of the 6th moon, 236 AC. Dol Guldur.

"Brother!" Sigrid cried joyously as she threw herself around Sigurd's neck.

The heir of Thenn held his sister close for a minute before stepping back to take a good luck at her. She looked healthy and happy.

"You are well?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Aye, more than well." Sigrid nodded vigorously. "Harry has been treating me like a queen, as he said he would. And I have two sons now, Sigmar and Sindri. Good, strong boys."

"I would like to meet my nephews." Sigurd said with a smile of happiness and relief. He had been worried for his sister.

"You will."

With that, Sigurd turned to Harry, who had been silently observing the sibling reunion.

He had been prepared to do one of two things upon coming here. Either draw bronze on the wizard or shake his hand as a brother. Seeing his sister content and happy made the choice for him.

"Brother." He said, extending his hand.

Harry shook it with a smile and a small inclination of his head. "Nice to see you again. Who's your friend?"

Sigurd looked up at the giant and mammoth that had come with him. "Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, they call him Mag the Mighty. Sigrid might not remember him, but he used to play with her when she was a small child."

Mag rumbled a greeting in the Old Tongue and Harry returned it easily. The local giants looked more like the yeti of Earth, but far more placid. Most of them didn't even eat meat unless there was no other choice.

After taking a moment to watch the rather funny sight of the shaggy giant curiously rubbing the fabric of Sigrid's cloak between his fingers while she giggled, Sigurd stepped closer to Harry with an altogether grimmer countenance.

"I am glad that we arrived here when we did." He said, taking a look around at the growing village. "There are several chieftains massing those who follow them with the intent of plundering what you have here."

"I know, I've seen them." Harry nodded. "They act out of fear of my magic as much as they do out of greed."

"Can you withstand them?" Sigurd asked. 'Do I have to flee with my sister and her children' was what he was really asking.

"They are a nuisance more than a threat." Harry shook his head irritably.

"Mag and I will stand with you." Sigurd promised. The Sorcerer was his brother now and he would be shamed in the eyes of the gods and his ancestors to do otherwise.