CH9 The foundation of the future

30th day of the 1st moon, 237 AC. Dol Guldur.

The rocks were mocking him.

Harry paced his workroom in thought, occasionally shooting an intense glare at the greasy black stone arranged on the table.

After their return from Stygai, he had gone to check out of the Seastone Chair on the Iron Islands and the base of the Hightower in the Reach. The Seastone Chair was indeed the same type of stone, but the base of the Hightower was not. It was a similar black color, but it was no more than ordinary stone.

Then he scried the area of northern Sothoryos with a Glass Candle in search of Yeen. The long-abandonded city was made entirely from the black stone as Melisandre said, and he even discovered a surprise bonus on the Isle of Toads in the process, as huge, malignant looking toad statue made of the stuff.

He had taken samples from all of these places and now had a collection of mysterious black rocks on his table, rocks that really didn't want to give up their secrets.

From what he could tell, the stones were identical no matter where it was taken from.

Diagnostic spells returned no results, only spitting back the equivalent of 'Error: Unknown Error!' every time.

Science also failed him. He could not idenfity the chemical composition no matter what method he employed. Looking at a chip of it under a microscope revealed only that it was unnaturally smooth.

It was as if the stone actively resisted attempts to divine its nature.

Some things he did learn, however.

It was insanely easy to work with. Take a chisel to it and it would always break with minimal effort and exactly the way you wanted it too. There were never any cracks or unwanted chips and even a novice stonemason could make great works with it.

Attempting to shape it with magic was even easier. Despite what he had observed of its properties in Stygai, transfiguration magic required no effort at all and would cause the stone to change shape to the subconscious whims of the caster. If one could ignore the discomforting feel of it, it was the perfect building material.

But that only applied as long as you wanted to work with it. Try to destroy it and suddenly it became uncooperative. It could be broken into pieces, but nothing he brought to bear could do it any true harm.

Most bafflingly of all, separate pieces actually fused back together if left in close proximity. That would explain why anything made of the stuff seemed immune to the ravages of time, but it raised so many new questions.

Neither the Old Gods nor Mother Rhoyne could tell him anything that he didn't already know. It was unnatural, made them feel vaguely uncomfortable and could he please remove it from their presence.

The only thing Harry was almost certain of was that it only looked like rock, but was not, in fact, a rock. Plants and animals certainly wouldn't avoid it like the plague if it was just a rock.

He stopped pacing and loomed over the table, glaring down at the neatly labeled specimens, focusing his entire being on them.

Nothing. Not a whisper of presence or memory, something that everything organic and inorganic should have, something that anything with a soul should have.

Harry didn't believe that it was soulless. It existed, therefore it must have a soul. He could, however, believe that it was an existence currently outside of his understanding and thus had a 'voice' that was at a 'frequency' he couldn't 'hear'.

"I'm going to figure you out." He threatened. "It might take me decades or even centuries, but I'm going to figure you out."

The rocks were unimpressed.

Luna poked her head into the room about a minute later.

"Are you ready yet?" She asked expectantly. "You can play with the rocks later, Hala is waiting for you."

"I'm coming." He said, rolling his eyes in minor exasperation. Asking me if I'm ready yet when it was the women taking forever to get their shit in order. Some things never change.

XXXXX

Harry and Hala's departure on their date/romantic outing should have been met with smiles and well wishes, but few things were done without fuss when there were young children involved.

There was crying and pleading to be taken along, and it took a good half hour to assure the worried toddlers that they wouldn't be gone long and that they would go on a trip together soon.

But the children weren't the ones being the most upset about it. Oh no, that dubious honor belonged to Ash.

"I told you already, it's too hot for you that far south." Harry said sternly, for the fifth time. "You'd be miserable."

The huge predator ignored him and tried to shove her way onto the Nimbus Cloud.

"Ash..." Harry growled, grabbing a fistful of fur on the direwolf's neck. "Stop being a cunt."

Ash growled back stubbornly and shook his hand off.

"We won't be gone long." Hala tried to reason.

Ash made a peculiar whining sound and gave her human the puppy dog eyes.

"Maybe we should just take her with us?" Hala faltered in her resolve.

Harry exhaled gustily and gave the suddenly smug direwolf a gimlet stare. "You're going to regret this."

Ash stuck her tongue out and panted happily.

XXXXX

Some hours later. A beach in southern Dorne.

"It's so fucking hot!" Hala exclaimed in a mixture of incredulity and discomfort.

Ash whined piteously in agreement, panting furiously in an attempt to cool down.

"I did warn you, but you insisted that you wanted to go 'as far south as south goes'." Harry pointed out in amusement.

"I didn't think it'd be this bad!" She complained. "It has to be the hottest place in the world."

"Nah, it gets hotter." He replied casually. "For one thing it's still spring, so we haven't reached peak hotness yet. For another, we can still go further south, although the Summer Isles have a different kind of heat."

"Different kind...?" Hala shook her head, apparently deciding that it wasn't worth asking. "Nevermind, just put up a tent so I can hide from the fucking sun."

Ash bumped her head into his shoulder and let out a series of heartbreaking whines, obviously desperate for a refuge.

"Dumb wolf, I told you you'd be miserable." Harry muttered and quickly set up the wizard's tent.

Ash ran inside immediately, while Hala and Harry followed behind her at a somewhat more restrained pace.

The first thing they saw upon entering was that the massive direwolf had opened the fridge and stuck her head inside.

"Oi, don't drool on the food." Harry scolded, dragging the protesting direwolf away from the refrigerator and shoving her towards the spot that she usually napped at. Then he tossed her some ice packs. "There, lie on those."

Ash did, plopping her enormous bulk on the ice packs and rumbling in pleasure at the soothing chiil.

Hala observed all this with an amused grin. It wasn't every day you got to see a fierce direwolf looking so pitiful.

Ash sensed her human's schadenfreude and gave an affronted huff, turning her head away.

"So..." Harry began, putting a hand on Hala's shoulder. "Did the heat scare you off, or are you ready to get started?"

Hala turned to face his amused smirk with a glare. "I can take it!"

"Then get naked so I can make you slippery." He riposted, holding up a bottle of suntan oil. Alchemy was truly the most versatile of all arts.

XXXXX

In the evening...

Hala stepped out of the tent with a blanket wrapped around her naked form, hair still slightly damp from the shower she'd taken to wash off the salt of the ocean. The absurdity of having a shower inside a tent still hadn't worn off, even after nearly three years to get used to it.

After rubbing that oil all over her body, Harry had started teaching her how to swim in the ocean. Another thing that she found difficult to get used to. A dip in the Shivering Sea was almost certain death, but here the ocean was no more than pleasantly cool. Warm even.

And the water turned the heat from nearly unbearable to pleasant. Harry had even introduced her to something he called 'sunbathing' and she had to admit that it was enjoyable, somehow. The oil made the blazing sun feel good instead of painful.

Not having fur helps. Hala thought with a grin, thinking of her poor direwolf. Ash had an incredibly thick pelt to keep her warm in the brutal cold of the True North, but here in this 'Dorne' it was torture.

Still grinning, she walked over to the towel that she had been sunbathing on and sat down, looking across the vast ocean. Her grin slowly faded as a contemplative mood struck her.

This place was so different from home. Instead of snow, there was sand everywhere. Blistering hot, shifting sand. How could two places be so different? When she'd imagined the south in the past, she'd thought that it got greener the further you went, but Dorne was like a dried out corpse of a land, with the cruel sun glaring down at it mercilessly. Today might have been fun and enjoyable, but Hala wasn't fool enough to think that she could survive this place without Harry's magic. She'd rather stay beyond the Wall than here.

She was broken out of her thoughts as Harry sat down next to her, just as naked as she was, and handed her a cup of gently steaming brown liquid.

Hala grabbed the cup of hot chocolate greedily and sipped at the sweet concotion with a moan of appreciation. Luna grew the cocoa beans in her garden and occasionally made chocolate treats for everyone. They had all been wary of drinking anything that looked like mud or worse, liquid shit, but the first tentative taste was all it took to fall in love with it.

"Slow down and savor it." Harry chuckled, sipping from his own cup.

"But it's so good." Hala sighed, slowing down nevertheless. If he and Luna had allowed it, she'd drink hot chocolate by the bucketload every day.

Probably a good thing that they were limiting access to it, since Harry said it would make her fat. The thought of being fat was somewhat incomprehensible to the free folk, who often struggled just to keep starvation at bay, but since being stolen by Harry Hala had come to understand it. Her body had softened, losing some of its old strength. She still went out on hunts with Ash, so it wasn't too bad, but the abundance of available food and having children to look after had definitely cost her some muscle.

Not as bad as Sigrid or Oak, though. Those two had no strength left in their bodies to speak of and probably would have become fat if Harry and Luna didn't control what and how much they ate. Ava remained as huge as ever, but Hala figured that probably had more to do with her giant blood than anything else.

A chilly breeze made her shiver and she pulled the blanket tighter across her shoulders. The sun was just now dipping over the mountains in the west and the heat of the day was quickly receding.

"Cold?" Harry asked.

"No, I was just surprised." Hala replied. The breeze had actually been nice, but she hadn't been expecting it with how hot the day had been.

"Deserts are strange places." He nodded. "The air is very dry, so they both warm up and cool down quickly. It's not so bad close to the ocean, but deeper inland the temperature can drop well below freezing after the sun goes down."

So it wasn't just hot, but cold too? Heat, cold, little water to drink, no forests, barely any plants at all and no weirwoods...What manner of hell was Dorne anyway?

"How can anyone live here?" She asked.

"They're used to it." Harry shrugged. "Put the Dornish beyond the Wall and they'd wonder the same thing."

"Aye..." Hala said with a nod, drinking the last of her hot chocolate. "I thought all of the south would be as green and pretty as the part we flew over earlier."

"The Reach? Very few lands have it that good."

"What are the Summer Isles like, then? They're even further south than this."

"Yes, but they get a lot more rain. The Summer Isles have some of the thickest, lushest forests in the world. Only Sothoryos can compare."

Rain. Water falling from the sky like a giant shower. Hala had never seen it.

"Will you take me to see Sothoryos as well?" She asked.

"No, it's far too dangerous." Harry said firmly, shaking his head.

Hala huffed, but didn't argue. Luna had told them about what they'd faced in Stygai and she couldn't honestly claim she could have survived it. If Harry said that something was too dangerous for her, then she would have to take his word for it, however much it galled her.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared and the stars became visible, bright and beautiful in ways that was rare to see in the frequently overcast skies beyond the Wall. Hala threw her blanket over Harry's shoulders as well and snuggled up to him. She looked down at her empty cup of hot chocolate forlornly and wished that she still had some.

Harry offered her his own, still half full cup, with a smirk. "You always drink it too fast."

"Shut up." She snarled in embarrassment and snatched the offered cup. Another sip of the sweet, warm deliciousness forced her to restrain the impulse to just gulp it down. It was so good.

This time, the silence was broken by Ash cautiously sticking her big snout out of the tent and then bursting out when no heat assaulted it. The direwolf made directly for them, briefly nuzzled them and then ran off to play and explore.

Hala grinned at the sight of Ash throwing herself on her back and wiggling around in the sand.

"And now she's going to be dropping sand from her fur for who knows how long." Harry said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Bad enough when she does that in the snow and trails it into the tower."

Hala didn't comment, knowing that he wasn't really that upset. Instead, she drank the last of his hot chocolate, put the cup down next to her own and grabbed his half-hard cock.

"Harry," She said huskily, feeling the meaty shaft rapidly hardening in her grip. "Oak said you agreed to give her another child. I want one too."

"We aren't in the True North anymore and such uncouth behavior is unacceptable of a lady in these parts." He scolded in an annoyingly prissy voice, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her hand away .

"Uncouth? The fuck does that stupid word even mean?" Hala scoffed, yanking her hand out of his grip.

"Lacking manners, grace and refinement." He explained lecturingly, a grin breaking through his act.

"I don't need manners, grace or refinement." She snarled, trying to shove him onto his back. "I need your cock in my cunt."

"My dear, you are the very soul of femininity." Harry chuckled, using his greater size and weight to stay upright.

"Aye." Hala agreed sagely. "All these southron ladies might stick their noses in the air and act like their shit don't stink, but all they really want is to get their cunts plowed."

"Well, you're not wrong, from a certain point of view." He chuckled some more before his eyes suddenly sharpened.

Hala yelped in surprised as he grabbed her and spun them around so that she ended up pinned halfway underneath him.

"So, how badly do you want it?" He whispered into her ear.

Hala shivered and was about to answer...but then Ash noticed what they were doing and decided that she wanted to join in on the fun. The direwolf pranced up to them and drove her front paws into Harry's back, almost bouncing on him.

"Oof!" The wizard wheezed as the air was driven out of him.

Hala burst into helpless laughter as Ash continued trying to insert herself into the roughhousing, tongue sticking out of her mouth and eyes bright with mischief.

"This is why you sleep in the hall when it's Hala's turn." Harry groused, pushing the heavy animal away before she could slobber all over him.

Hala's cackling only got worse when she Ash made a confused/disappointed little whine, wondering why they'd stopped playing. The laughter went on for quite a while, until both the wizard and direwolf just sat there and waited for her to finish.

When it finally subsided, Hala had to wipe away a few tears and turned to her longtime partner. "Ash, we weren't playing, we were about to start fucking."

Ash huffed with a distinct note of exasperated disappointment and trotted away, leaving them alone.

"Were we really?" Harry asked in amusement. "You still haven't told me how badly you want it."

But Hala was done playing games. She wanted her man and she wanted him now.

He didn't try to evade her or be difficult as she kissed him, and he didn't resist when she pulled him on top of her.

Hala gasped into the kiss when she felt his hand slide between her legs, fingers teasing along the out edges of her cunt and gently flicking the little pleasure button above it. She felt a spell settle on her and shivered in anticipation.

"Take me now, no more waiting." She purred.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked teasingly, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. Then he shifted across her body until he was completely atop her, head of his cock pressing against her rapidly moistening outer lips. "We've done barely any foreplay."

Hala usually loved foreplay. She loved the things he could do to her with his mouth and enjoyed his pleasure when she returned the favor. Not today, though.

"Yes, I'm sure." She said, squirming as she tried to take him inside. "I need you to fuck me hard. Please."

Hala saw his eyes darken with lust and felt a surge of triumph as he slowly sank into her. He gave her a hard kiss before moving down her neck and finally to her breasts, where he began to nibble at her nipples.

"Yes!" She cried out in triumphant pleasure at the feeling of him stretching her, grabbing his arse as soon as her hands were released and pulling him in deeper.

His thrusts became harder and harder with every passing moment and she loved it. Hala knew that his spell was responsible for a lot of the pleasure she was feeling, but she didn't care. It was too good.

She felt her peak approaching and Harry's ever louder grunting told her that so was he, so she grabbed his hair and pulled him back up to her lips, kissing him with a desperate hunger.

"Breed me." She groaned into his ear, nearly at the breaking point.

Harry groaned in turn, slamming his lips onto hers in another bruising kiss as he slammed his hips into her. She felt his cock pulsing, filling her insides with his seed. It was all she needed to be pushed over the edge.

Hala dug her nails into his back and screamed out her completion to the empty desert as the waves of pleasure ravaged her body.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as they got their breath back, interrupted only by the occasional gentle kiss.

Eventually, Hala exhaled contently and nuzzled into his neck. "I'm so happy that you stole me, Harry."

"Oh? Does that mean you regret fighting me so hard?" He asked teasingly, pulling at her earlobe with his teeth.

Hala sank her teeth into his neck, almost hard enough to draw blood, grinning around the skin in her mouth when he grunted in pain.

"That's the fun part." She whispered into his ear after letting go.

Harry gave her a dark look that made her shiver again. She knew that look, it was the one he always gave her before fucking her silly.

XXXXX

2nd day of the 2nd moon, 237 AC. Summer Isles, Walano, Tall Trees Town.

There was no other way to describe it, Hala was rubbernecking.

After leaving Dorne they had made their way southwards through the Summer Isles and were now in the cultural and religious heart of the region, Tall Trees Town.

The spearwife had not taken well to the humid heat, so Harry had given her an amulet with a permanent cooling charm on it which he had made in advance, anticipating this problem.

Ash had given him such a pitiful look that he didn't have the heart to tease her and just gave her the spare without even rubbing it in again.

That terrible problem solved, they continued with their outing. They had already been through the settlements of Lotus Port and Last Lament, but Hala still couldn't stop staring at all the people with skin tones ranging from light brown to almost coal black, dressed in all sorts of bright colors and decorated with garish feathers.

The eponymous Talking Trees which gave Tall Trees Town its name would almost certainly give her neck pains later in the day. The gigantic trees rose high up in the air, and their monstrously thick trunks blotted out the sun for much of the day. Priestesses in feathered robes hung from harnesses tied to the branches in the boughs and inscribed the histories, songs, laws and divine commandments of the Summer Isles into the trunks.

To be fair to Hala, she wasn't the only one rubbernecking. The locals were doing the same.

Tall Trees Town was a thriving trading port, so pale-skinned visitors weren't an unusual sight, but a direwolf definitely was. People made way as the giant predator passed, pointing and talking to each other excitedly in the flowing cadences of the Summer Tongue that Harry hadn't learned quite yet. They didn't seem unduly concerned since Ash was just placidly walking at Hala' side, but they were definitely curious. The same had happened in Last Lament and Lotus Port.

Harry had no doubt that, if they stuck around long enough, they would eventually draw the notice of the prince or princess who ruled the area to catch wind of them. That would probably lead to an invitation to the palace.

Despite his usual modus operandi being to avoid dealing with politicians whenever possible, he was inclined to let things ride in this case. Not because Adrastia had ever-so-sweetly asked that he not make a terrible first impression and make it more difficult for her to establish a relationship with the Summer Isles in the future, but because of what the region was like.

Separated from the rest of the world, the culture of the Summer Islands had developed in some rather...unusual ways. Heavy societal emphasis on love, beauty and sexual prowess, with war being a rigidly controlled and ritualistic endeavour designed so that no non-combatants got caught up in it. Sandy beaches, lots of sun, unreasonably friendly locals...in other words, it was a perfect vacation spot. Despite his fondness for colder climes, even Harry wasn't averse to keeping an option like that open, and it would keep the women happy.

But that was for when and if they got invited to rub elbows with the local ruler. For the moment, Harry was content to mentally catalogue oddities while showing Hala around.

The most glaring incongruity was war. The way it was conducted in the Summer Isles was realistically unsustainable. It would only have taken one would-be conqueror ignoring the edicts of their priests for the system to fall apart, which was statistically pretty much guaranteed to happen, yet it hadn't.

Then there were the subtler, yet broader, things. The locals were simply not consistent with the environmental factors that should have been driving their evolution. The Summer Isles had what was basically the opposite problem of the lands beyond the Wall. Whereas the free folk lived in brutal environmental conditions that prevented them from really getting any civilization going, the Summer Isles were too easy to live in.

The abundance of easily available food, safe isolation, constantly warm climate and almost complete absence of environmental dangers should have, over the course of many thousands of generations, fostered an indolent, unadventurous and even rather dumb people. There was nothing to really challenge them, force them to adapt and grow and plan things in advance, and they should have evolved accordingly.

But they hadn't. Putting aside their religious fixation on sex, their culture placed quite a lot of value on knowledge, exploration and various craftsman skills. He would tentatively say that Summer Islanders were on average smarter than the Westerosi who lived in a significantly more challenging environment, which made no sense at all. It was like having the perfect evolutionary conditions for the common cat and getting a tiger out of it.

Of course, a couple of days of casual observation wasn't really enough to get a solid idea about that and there was a lot of crucial information he was missing, such as how and when the bleeding fuck the ancient ancestors of the Summer Islanders even got to the isles in the first place, seeing as it was a chunk of land completely separated from the rest of the world.

Truth be told, when added to the countless other Earth animal species present on this world, which could not realistically have evolved in the exact same way through some mind-bogglingly remote stroke of luck, Harry was fairly certain that natural evolution had been shown the door a long time ago. Added to the fact that English was the Westerosi Common Tongue and all the other similarities to Earth...well, he wasn't even ruling out the possibility that this entire world was some higher order god's science experiment.

The next step in the quest to follow that particular rabbit hole to its terminus would be questioning the local minor gods.

The Temple of Love wasn't hard to find; it was by far the biggest building in town and had a huge front yard reserved for it. As expected, Harry was able to sense the presence of the local gods around it much as he could around the septs in Westeros. A problem did arise when they tried to gain entry, however.

One of the other temple goers ran up to them and started talking, making gestures towards Ash and the temple.

Harry may not know the Summer Tongue yet, but he could hear the meaning in the words. No animals allowed.

"They don't allow animals in the temple." He explained to a confused Hala. "Wait here, I won't be long."

"Aye." She agreed without fuss, placing a hand on the direwolf's back. She didn't have much interest in gods that weren't her own.

Harry stepped inside cautiously, moving past the foyer and into the main hall. It was a large room, with twenty wooden statues of exquisite craftmanship arranged in a semi-circle around it, half male and half female.

The ones directly in front seemed to be the chief deities of the Summer Isles, a man and woman locked in a passionate embrace, presumably representing love. After them came what had to be the deities of fertility and virility, an immensely broad-hipped female with sixteen breasts and a male with disproportionately large genitalia. It went from there, depicting gods and goddesses for more abstract things like beauty, passion, health, learning, craftmanship and so on.

The priesthood was also divided among gender roles, and a late thirties woman of refined beauty came to greet him as he approached.

"Welcome, stranger." She said in a thickly-accented Common Tongue. "Have you come to honor the gods?"

Several of the younger priestesses giggled and gave him inviting looks, while a few of their male counterparts merely looked interested.

Harry knew that Summer Islanders honored their gods with fucking. Lots and lots of fucking.

"Maybe some other day." He said with a small smile. The priestesses were all very beautiful, but this was not the time to be indulging his libido. "Today, I came to speak to your gods."

"Speak to them?" The presumed high priestess blinked.

"I am a sorcerer." He revealed without concern, briefly conjuring a ball of crackling lighting in his hand before dismissing it.

While the clergy and a few other visitors recoiled with surprised gasps and then began gabbing among themselves excitedly, Harry stepped into the center point of the temple and spoke in the True Tongue.

"I greet you." His words seemed to be accompanied by a rustle of wind and everyone immediately stilled.

It didn't strictly matter in what language he spoke, but the True Tongue was deeply connected to the planet's world-soul and made the connection stronger.

Welcome. A multitude of voices seemed to whisper in return, caressing his soul with sensations of affection and lust and urging him to relax.

Being by nature a contrary sort of man, Harry immediately tensed and shut out the foreign influence.

"Do not do that again." He warned sternly, the True Tongue making his voice sound like rocks grinding against each other.

We meant no offense. They said back soothingly. The woman outside loves you and you care for her. You have children together and are seeking to have more. We would bless your union.

Ah, so they could sense that, could they? The Smith of the Seven had been able to sense that Harry was a skilled craftsman, so it appeared that they could detect things about mortals that fell within their sphere of influence.

"Do you do that for everyone on these islands?"

Yes.

Well, that would explain why he hadn't seen any ugly people around the place. It also brought up a matter of some concern.

"Would your blessing persist once we leave the Summer Isles?"

No, we have no power in other lands.

That was good to hear.

"Can you also curse people?"

We would never curse our children.

But they could. Harry quickly ran through the portfolios of the Seven and the Drowned God, which he had antagonized quite severely. Fortunately, they were associated with things that couldn't be easily influenced without egregiously impugning on free will or outright reality warping. Adjusting the odds of the genetic lottery was trivial in comparison.

It had been reckless to immediately pick a fight with the Seven, but their religion was so similar to the three Abrahamic ones back on Earth, especially with their 'magic is evil' stance, that he had automatically classified it as an enemy. That could have turned out quite problematic if the Seven were not so impotent. As for the Drowned God...well, he was a giant cunt.

"I suppose you also keep them safe from sexually transmitted diseases?" That would have been a serious problem for a society with such a liberal attitude to fucking.

Of course.

"Then if you are still willing, I would accept your blessing." For science of course.

Harry lowered his guard and allowed the wash of foreign power to settle over him. It lacked the structure of a spell, but still felt rather similar. He instinctively knew that his virility had received a boost.

We would be honored if you shared our blessing with our priestesses. The gods hinted unsubtly.

"This time is for Hala, but I am likely to bring the rest of my family here in the future. Luna is sure to invite a few to share our bed."

We look forward to it.

"I had one more question. Are you the ones keeping war in the Summer Isles so civilized?"

War is such an ugly thing. We cannot bear to see our beautiful children killing each other, but we cannot stop them completely. There was a deep grief attached to the response, as if even the minimal amounts of war happening on the Summer Isles was unbearably painful.

So that was a yes. More adjustments to the genetic lottery to increase empathy and lower aggression or constantly influencing souls? Both? Either way, if the Summer Isles weren't so isolated it would have led to disaster. As it was, they were still vulnerable to pirate and slaver raids because they lacked the martial mindset to deal with them properly. Had it been up to him, he would have turned Tall Trees Town and any other vulnerable settlement into a fortress. And probably organized extermination campaigns every few years to burn them out of whatever hole they were using as a base.

But Harry suspected that the gods of the Summer Isles were unable to think that way, because even as they influenced their worshipers, they were in turn influenced by them. No doubt they would prefer safety from pirates, but not if it meant allowing their people to become more prone to violence.

"This has been an interesting conversation, but I should be getting back to my woman now." He said an gave a small bow of his head. "Thank you for your time."

As far as gods went, these ones weren't so bad. Quite accomodating actually. The worst he could say about them was that they were overprotective and definitely oversexed, but that was worlds better than the sanctimonious attitude of the Seven or the cruelty of the Drowned God. With those two, courtesy would have felt like bootlicking, which was another reason why he'd been so antagonistic. He didn't feel the need to be an ass now.

They said nothing in response, merely enveloped him in a sense of comfort that had a motherly feel to it. It made Harry feel uncomfortable because the sensation was so alien, but he supposed it was nice from an objective standpoint.

The temple's clergy had watched all this happen with looks of deep bewilderment and no small amount of awe. The True Tongue could have that effect when it was spoken with purpose by someone skilled in magic.

Harry paid no mind to their expressions and simply nodded at the high priestess before turning around and leaving. If Ash hadn't already been enough to have word sent to the local ruler, then this definitely would be.

Speaking of the direwolf, she had attracted quite the crowd while he'd been inside the temple. There were several brave Summer Islanders around her and a harried looking Hala, talking amongst each other and one was even tentatively stroking the direwolf's fur.

"Harry!" Hala exclaimed in relief when she noticed him. "Help me out here, I don't know what the fuck they're saying!"

"They're impressed by Ash and think she's beautiful." He replied with a smirk, having been able to discern that much.

Ash lifted her chin in a superior manner that was really more befitting a cat.

"Come on, let's go check out the market and then we can take you hunting out in the forest."

The crowd was disappointed to have the direwolf leave, but Hala and Ash perked up at the mention of a hunt.

XXXXX

A few hours later. Outside Tall Trees Town.

"This forest is too fuckin' loud." Hala complained, slapping at an insect that landed on her neck. The screeching of birds and monkeys and who knew what else echoing through the trees all the time.

"It's a rainforest." Harry explained, amused. "They tend to be the loudest type."

"Aye, and what kind is the Haunted Forest?"

"Boreal, which tends to be the quietest."

"Well that just fuckin' figures, don't it?" Hala muttered sarcastically.

Ash also huffed an irritated growl. There were so many new sounds, sights and smells that she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. And even with the cooling charm amulent, it was still too hot for her.

"You want to stop for the day?" Harry asked. "It's getting dark."

Hala looked briefly mulish, not wanting to concede that the forest had gotten the better of her, but then she sighed and nodded. Even familiar forests got much more dangerous at night, and this one was anything but familiar.

"Aye, let's set up the tent over there." She said and nodded in the indicated direction before stomping over.

She was just about to step on a thick tree branch when Harry interposed his arm in her path.

"What?" Hala demanded.

Harry merely nodded at the 'tree branch' and hissed in Parseltongue. "Could you please move? My mate was about to step on you."

"Humans. They never look where they step." The python hissed irritably before slithering away in a huff.

Ash growled a warning at the other animal and Hala's face was a picture of bewilderment. "The fuck was that?"

"A snake, python subspecies. They're cold-blooded animals that need outside warmth in order to stay alive. Ambush predators that strike from stealth. Many are also venomous, although that one was a constrictor – meaning it wraps around its prey and crushes it to death."

Harry was terribly amused by the fact that she didn't even ask about the Parseltongue.

"This forest is fuckin' weird." Hala exhaled gustily, and then irritably slapped at another insect. "And these fuckin' bugs are annoying as shit!"

"No argument from me there." Harry shrugged. "Why do you think I like cold places better?"

"Can't you do some magic to keep them away?"

"Not without keeping away everything else as well." Tailoring species-specific wards wasn't something he was going to waste time on, seeing as they were only playing tourist.

"Ugh...let's just set up the tent."

XXXXX

5th day of the 2nd moon, 237 AC. Summer Isles, Koj.

"Prince Xhallos Dho respectfully extends an invitation that you join him as guests at the Pearl Palace for the duration of your stay on Koj, and would be most honored by your acceptance." The messenger said in an admirably even voice, executing a short bow. If not for the stiffness of his body language and the too-tight grip his guard escorts had on their spears, one would almost think he wasn't halfway along the path to terrified.

He had accosted them barely an hour after their arrival on what passed for a capital on Koj, obviously forwarned of their arrival.

"Are we in trouble?" Hala asked in the Old Tongue.

"No, we've just been attracting a lot of attention and the magnar wants to see us for himself, out of either caution or curiosity." Harry replied in the same language, using the closest equivalent for a prince that the Old Tongue had.

"Ah, so how are we handling this?"

Harry turned to the nervously smiling messenger and gave him a smile of his own. "We would be happy to accept. Please lead the way."

The messenger visibly resisted the urge to sag with relief.

XXXXX

Prince Xhallos Dho was a tall man of gregarious disposition. His frame showed the saggy muscle tone of someone that let themselves go a bit and his smile was disarmingly wide.

"Welcome!" The man nearly beamed, his Common flawless except for the notable accent. "I am Xhallos Dho, Prince of Koj, and I am most pleased that you decided to accept my offer of hospitality. Please, sit and eat."

He gestured to a table brimming with local foods. There was even a great haunch of raw meat from some animal or another laid out on a large platter, obviously meant for Ash.

"Thank you." Harry said as they sat, not bothering to hide his amused smile. Most people didn't really have the option of refusing when a prince 'invited' them into his home. "I'm Harry and this is my woman, Hala. The fluffball is Ash."

"Oi." Hala greeted with more than a touch of insolence, laying into the offered food with a lack of manners that could only be called deliberate.

Ash just dove right for the meat prepared for her.

"A pleasure to meet you." Xhallos enthused, apparently unperturbed. Points to him. "Tell me, is this magnificent beast one of the fabled direwolves of Westeros? I had heard that they could only be found north of the Wall in this age."

A rather transparent way to fish for information, but the direwolf-shaped opening was right there.

"That happens to be where we're from." Harry admitted easily.

"Fascinating." The prince said with a look of genuine interest. "And how have you found the Summer Isles so far? I imagine they are quite different from your homeland."

"It's fuckin' hot." Hala cut in rudely, with her mouth full no less. "The True North might be cold enough to freeze your piss before it hits the ground, but at least you can't drown in your own sweat."

Harry couldn't quite hold back his grin at their host's poleaxed expression. Summer Islanders might not be nearly as uptight as most Westerosi about social protocol, but the utter disregard Hala had just showed for a prince's station still did not compute.

"Don't mind Hala." He said, petting his spearwife's hair as if she'd just done something precious, much to her annoyance. "Despite her words, she's actually been enjoying the Summer Isles."

"Aye." She admitted grudgingly. "I just can't get used to the heat."

"Understandable." Xhallos chuckled, regaining his composure. "I am sure that if I were to travel to your homeland I would complain about the cold just as you complain about the heat."

"Aye." Hala repeated with a nod. "I did like fucking in the rain though, that was fun."

"Many of our people enjoy it as well." Xhallos agreed, leaning forward slightly in his earnestness. "You see, rain comes from the teats of our goddesses to feed the earth, as milk comes from from the teats of mothers to feed their children. Making love in the rain honors the gods."

"That's stupid." Hala stated bluntly.

Harry was so proud, but their host was rather less impressed.

"I suppose you have a better explanation for the rain?" The miffed prince asked coolly.

Put on the spot, Hala looked uncertain and turned towards him. "Harry?"

"Heat evaporates water. Water vapor rises into the air and the clings to tiny bits of dust. This creates clouds. When enough water forms around the speck of dust or when it gets cold enough, water vapor condenses back into liquid form and falls to the earth in the form of rain, beginning the cycle anew." Harry explained and popped a slice of fruit into his mouth.

Hala gave the prince a smug look.

Xhallos apparently hadn't been prepared to actually receive an explanation, and was momentarily nonplussed. But his face quickly formed into an expression that Harry was very familiar with, the one that people always got when they disregarded what you just said because it contradicted their beliefs, but didn't want to offend by outright saying so.

"Did you learn this from talking to the gods?" He asked, tactfully changing the subject.

"Oh no, I've known this for centuries."

You could almost hear the tires screeching when the man's thought processes missed a red light and caused a pileup. Never got old.

"C-centuries?" Xhallos stammered.

"Mhm, I'm about six hundred years old, give or take a couple of decades."

And there was the skepticism. It always showed up once people got over their initial shock. Harry levitated a distant plate to himself to put an end to that nonsense.

"So it is true." Xhallos near-whispered. "You are a sorcerer."

"You already knew that." Harry pointed out. "You mentioned me speaking to the gods, so you must have received word from the Temple of Love."

"I did, but I found it difficult to believe." The prince admitted.

"Fair enough." Harry shrugged. "So, what did you want to talk about? I doubt it was religion."

"Indeed." The Summer Islander laughed. It was a little forced, but he seemed to be regaining his joviality. "Much as it would like to discuss matters of faith, a prince must focus on more worldly concerns."

"Well I can assure you that I have no plans conduct any dark rituals or do harm to your people."

"How did-?!" Xhallos cut himself off before finishing the sentence, but realized it was already too late. "How did you know that my advisors raised such a concern?"

"They always do, it's what they're supposed to do after all." Harry waved a hand dismissively.

That seemed to surprise a laugh out of the prince. "Ha! I suppose that is true. An advisor that does not worry would be of little use. Why did you come to the Summer Isles, then?"

"Hala wanted to see them." He nodded at the spearwife that had by now stopped stuffing her face.

"Aye, Adrastia is from here and I wanted to see it." Hala agreed.

"Adrastia?" Xhallos repeated curiously.

"A Summer Islander in my service." Harry lied.

"Truly?" The prince's eyes lit up with interest. "Which island is she from?"

"She never said." Harry shrugged, expanding the lie. "I picked her up in Braavos over five hundred years ago and she's been with me ever since."

He could almost see the gears turning behind Xhallos Dho's wide eyes.

Does that mean he can he make others immortal? The man was thinking.

"Smart woman. Very good with people." Harry continued. "She was an invaluable advisor during my time as a king."

"You were a king?" Xhallos looked shocked.

"Mhm, but I passed my duties and my crown to my son a long time ago and decided to do some traveling with my remaining wife after my other two got tired of living. We've only recently decided to settle down in the lands beyond the Wall and start a new family. Adrastia didn't enjoy serving my son as much as she did me, so she decided to tag along." Not willingly, but that was a minor detail.

"What land did you rule?" The prince of Koj asked eagerly. "You have the look of a Westerosi, but surely tales of a sorcerer king would have been known far and wide."

"You wouldn't have heard of it." Harry replied, amused. "It's a land farther away than you can imagine, reachable only through magical means."

"I see." Xhallos looked disappointed. "I had hoped to add your lands to the maps we have here in the Pearl Palace, and perhaps broker a trade agreement as well."

"I did hear that you have an extensive collection."

"Indeed, and you are more than welcome to peruse during your stay, if you wish." The prince offered with a wide smile.

"I might just take you up on that, although we won't be staying long, maybe a few days before we move on to Omboru and then to Jhala, and back home after that."

"I will be happy to host you for as long as you wish." Xhallos was still maintaining his wide smile. "And perhaps we may discuss the possibility of trade between us before you continue on your journey?

Harry wasn't surprised by the blatant opportunism. Koj built about 75% of the Summer Isles' ships despite not being one of the larger three islands, and they were aggressive traders. It would have been strange if the man didn't ask. And that wasn't even factoring in the more personal interest that Xhallos had in making friends with a wizard.

Much as it was with the Starks, the Summer Isles had nothing that he could personally want, nor would he waste time producing items that they could want.

He could say so, but that would be counter-productive to his desire to use this place as a vacation spot and Adrastia would complain about him ruining her fun. She'd certainly done it enough after he'd shut down the Starks and, while that could be amusing, she hadn't done anything recently to deserve that kind of pettiness.

"That would be a little difficult at the moment." He said, scratching at the scars on his face. "I built my tower rather far inland, and there are no ports in the True North."

"I see, that is unfortunate." Xhallos said with a crestfallen expression.

"Well, If I know Adrastia, and after all this time I most certainly do, she's no doubt planning to help one of my sons rebuild Hardhome and turn it into a thriving port city. It shouldn't take more than twenty years at the most, so this conversation could be revisited then."

Hala perked up at that. Although she didn't say anything, she was definitely looking interested.

"You speak as if twenty years is nothing." Xhallos gave a strange, resigned chuckle. "I am unlikely to still be the Prince of Koj when that time comes."

"Something for your successor to deal with, then." Harry shrugged, ignoring the man's tone.

XXXXX

16th day of the 2nd moon, 237 AC. Dol Guldur.

Harry reclined on the couch and observed his gossiping women. Hala was currently in the middle of describing the Red Flower Vale to the others. They had stayed there as guests of the reigning princess, but only briefly. Hala hadn't appreciated the woman's attempts to bed them, either together or separately, but she had loved the beautiful valley and its carpet of red flowers that gave it its name.

Ash had spent most of her time there sneezing.

Adrastia sat down next to him, close enough that it could be called cuddling.

"I hope you realize that you are going to have to take all of them to the Summer Isles now." She said wrily.

"I figured, yes." Harry replied, just as wrily. "I've already made preparations to make the Summer Isles the family vacation spot, with the palaces as our hotels."

Adrastia did a masterfully faked gasp of surprise and clutched at his arm.

"That's wonderful!" She gushed in delight.

"Uh huh." Harry was so used to her antics that he automatically saw through the endearing behavior to the trap below. "By the way, if anyone asks, I picked you up in Braavos five hundred years ago."

"So noted." She acknowledged, then raised an eyebrow at him. "How did this come up?"

"Eh, most of the princes and princesses of the Summer Isles that were playing host to us asked about establishing a trade relationship." He said with a wishy-washy gesture of his hand. "I said we didn't have a port yet and dropped your name, saying that you'd work on making one."

"You mean to say you laid the groundwork for a highly profitable trade relationship in the future?" Adrastia asked rhetorically with a pleased expression and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Oh Harry, that was terribly sweet of you. How ever could I repay you?"

"How about telling me why you didn't ask to be taken to the Summer Isles before?" He asked with a raised eyebrow of his own. "I could understand wanting to stick close to me for protection in the beginning with the way this world is, but that culture is practically tailor-made for exploitation by someone like you."

"Their gods value love." She was quick to answer. "They may have taken offense to my ways and decided to work against me. You should know by now that I don't take risks, especially with unknowns like that."

Harry thought back to their old dance before she entered his service and doubted the truth of that statement, however much she seemed to believe it. She had certainly been willing to risk quite a bit by testing his patience, solely for the sake of amusement no less.

"Are you sure?" He teased with a smirk. "Or did you just want to stay close to me? Do you luuuuv me, Adrastia?"

She gave him a look of utter disgust. "Don't act the child, you know how I loathe children."

"Really?" His smirk widened, becoming something quite toothy. "I suppose you did mention something about how you hate READING BEDTIME STORIES."

Adrastia's eyes widened in horror as he spoke the last three words more than loudly enough for the entire room to hear.

"Aunty Dwastia!" Jala exclaimed with glee, using the hated nickname that he had saddled her with in an earlier prank. "You gonna wead us a stowy?"

The other gaggle of older children quickly joined in on the excitement, which of course pulled their younger batch of siblings in on it as well.

"Yes, Aunty Dwastia, are you going to read them a bedtime story?" Harry asked mockingly.

Adrastia's smile was as bright as the rage beneath it was black. "Of course, children. Follow me and we will pick out something appropriate."

They cheered, and Harry could sense how she struggled to stay in control to prevent her vindictive malice from pressing down on the room.

"I have that covered, here you go." He interjected again, handing her a small booklet.

Adrastia looked at it and her smile became even more angelic when she saw that it was a disgustingly colorful children's story about not trusting appearances.

"Yes, this is very...appropriate."

She left the room without another word, four eager children toddling along behind her, and another four being carried by their mothers.

"I wonder how she's going to get back at you for that?" Luna asked of nobody in particular.

"So do I, Luna. So do I."

XXXXX

Sigrid's turn was next, but unlike Hala she wasn't interested in distant lands so much as she wanted to see how the castles south of the Wall compared to Dol Guldur.

Their first stop was Winterfell.

XXXXX

23rd day of the 2nd moon, 237 AC. The North, Winterfell.

Edwyle was deep in thought as he walked down the hallway of his family's ancestral castle, when a hand reached out from the darkness and clamped on his shoulder with an almost painfully tight grip.

He let out a sound of startled surprise, but the instincts trained into him by the master-at-arms had him reacting quickly. He jumped forward and grabbed for the dagger at his belt, then spun around to face his assailant.

"The look on your face, boy!" The Sorcerer of Dol Guldur snorted in laughter, clearly amused by his reaction.

Next to him, the Thenn girl that was one of his women giggled.

"How did you get in here?" Edwyle demanded, bringing his racing heart under control, but not lowering the dagger.

Harry raised an eyebrow, forming an expression that somehow managed to question his intelligence more than words ever could. "I'm a wizard, boy. Did you think a few rocks stacked on top of each other could keep me from going where I want?"

Edwyle pushed down his indignation at the unflattering description of Winterfell. "Entering a lord's castle without permission is the height of discourtesy."

"Really?" That damn eyebrow was up again. "What about fucking a lord's wife in his own bed? I'd think that would be a shade worse."

Edwyle paled with rage and gripped the dagger so hard it hurt. "What have you done to my wife?!"

"Nothing. It was a rhetorical question, dumbass, now put that knife away before you hurt yourself." Harry scoffed, unimpressed. "And speaking of your wife, I did hear that you got married. Congratulations. Here, catch."

Edwyle reflexively caught the object thrown at him and looked at it with a frown, feeling a confusing mixture of relief that his wife was apparently unharmed and anger at being insulted.

"What is it?" He asked warily. It was a glass bottle, about the same size as one for wine, filled with a thick golden liquid.

"Godsmead. I start teaching people the secrets of alchemy and what do they do with it? Make booze. Fucking typical. It's pretty good, though. Anyway, Luna and Adrastia insisted I bring a belated wedding gift, so there you go."

There were so many things to be alarmed about in those words that Edwyle hardly knew where to begin. Wildlings alchemists, and apparently they knew how to make high quality glass as well if the bottle was any indication. His uncle was already driving himself sick with worry over the news that Raymun Redbeard's younger brother was in Harry's service now, after trying and failing to kill him.

But for all that, the mention Adrastia gripped his attention most of all. The memory of the dark-skinned beauty haunted his mind even now that he was married to another woman, and hearing that she still thought of him fondly enough to insist that the man who held her in chains bring him a wedding gift warmed his heart.

"Adrastia, is she well?" He found himself asking.

Again with the eyebrow from the wizard. "She's fine, keeping herself busy herding all the idiots Ronan brought to my doorstep."

"Yes, we have received word about that." Edwyle said neutrally, finally putting away his dagger. "You seem to be amassing quite the following."

"Never mind that now." Harry waved off as if it was unimportant. "I'm taking Sigrid here on a tour of all the notable castles and cities in the Seven Kingdoms and Winterfell was first on the list. I hope you don't mind if we impose on your hospitality for a couple of days."

It wasn't really a question or request. Edwyle was being told that his hospitality was being imposed upon. The sheer arrogance...

But how do you tell a sorcerer that you do mind? Especially one who had already proven that he could enter your castle on a whim and come within stabbing distance without being detected? Instead of a clap on the shoulder, it could have just as easily been a dagger in the back, if the magic user even needed to come that close.

He wished his uncle was here to advise him, but Artos had taken his family to visit his wife's brother.

"Not at all." Edwyle said, forcing a smile to his lips that he hoped looked genuine.

XXXXX

Edwyle had married Marna Locke, the daughter of one of his bannermen. It was a political match meant to secure his hold on the North and love played no part in it. Both of them knew this and their marriage had quickly settled into a friendly, if passionless, affair.

That did not mean, however, that they didn't long for other things. Edwyle dreamed of a life where he could have taken Adrastia as his wife, and Marna dreamed of romance.

Having Harry and Sigrid as guests didn't appeal to either of them.

Edwyle was unhappy to be hosting the wizard who held the woman he wanted in eternal servitude.

Marna was unhappy because just like many people from the North, she hated wildlings and now two of them were sharing her table. Plus, she was also a noble lady and thus something of a snob. She would have had them kicked out if it was up to her. Worse still, she felt envious of the clear affection between Harry and Sigrid.

It made her snippy at dinner.

"How do you like Winterfell's food, Sigrid?" Marna asked sweetly. "I imagine you don't have such variety available beyond the Wall."

"It's alright, Marna." Sigrid replied just as sweetly, deliberately refusing to call the other woman 'Lady Stark'. "You're wrong about the variety , though. Dol Guldur has all sorts of foods; fruits and vegetables from distant lands, grains and spices you've never heard of. Doesn't taste as bland either."

"That's nice." Marna gave a painful rictus of a smile.

"Aye." Sigrid agreed. "And Luna likes to make desserts, too. You haven't lived until you've had chocolate."

And so it went, with the sniping going from wealth, prestige, jewelry, clothes, nobility, manners, their children,or lackthereof in Marna's case, the status of their lands, ...

Edwyle and Harry observed this happening, one with amusement and the other with increasing trepidation. He had let his wife's rudeness go without comment because their 'guests' were quite literally imposing on them and it would serve them right to feel unwelcome, but it seemed to be backfiring.

Finally, Edwyle could take it no more and leaned over to the wizard.

"Should we stop this?" He muttered quietly.

"Oh, it's too late for that." Harry snickered, just as quietly. "When men get into a cock-measuring contest it starts slow and gradually builds up until a resolution is reached. Women though? They start out as mortal enemies and escalate from there, and you can forget about anything ever getting resolved. To be honest, I feel sorry for what you'll be going through after we leave."

"What will I be going through?" Edwyle asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

"If you've noticed, your wife is coming off worse a lot in their exchanges, and she's going to want to complain about it to someone later on. That someone is going to be you."

"You do my wife a disservice." Edwyle said sternly. "She is a dutiful, sensible woman, and will not let herself be rattled so easily."

"Whatever you say." Harry shrugged and nodded at the bottle he'd brought as a gift. "Try the Godsmead. If nothing else, it'll distract you from the bitchfest."

Edwyle was briefly seized by the petulant impulse to refuse merely out of spite for the sorcerer and his condescending attitude, but his lessons in etiquette quickly reminded him that such behavior was unworthy of a high lord. Just because his unwanted guest was rude was no reason to sink to the same level.

So he poured some of the thick golden liquid into his mug and took a cautious drink. Ironically, he had no fear of poison from the sorcerer.

It was rather thick, and had a rich taste with a strong hint of sweetness. Heat bloomed in his chest, his heart thundered in his ears and fire rushed through his veins. Then it was over and Edwyle exhaled shakily, looking at the drink in wonder.

"I was surprised too." Harry said, smirking slightly. "My idiot students actually managed to make a really good drink. But I suppose if mankind can be relied upon for one thing, it's to make booze. Be careful with it though, drink too much at once and all you'll want to do is fight or fuck."

"I see." Edwyle gave the Godsmead an askance look, thinking that it would be in everyone's best interests to keep it away from the Umbers.

XXXXX

To Harry's amusement, the bitchfest between Sigrid and Marna continued the next morning. It began with a sweet question from the Lady Stark about the quality of the beds, and Sigrid's equally sweet reply that she was used to better, but that they were tolerable.

Edwyle politely reminded his wife that she had duties to attend to before it could get out of hand. The young lord had no idea how lucky he was to live in a society where feminism wasn't even a vague notion in the darkest depths of someone's imagination, because otherwise that would have gotten him more than a brief look of indignation.

"I have my own duties to see to." Edwyle said once his wife was safely gone. "You may explore Winterfell and its surroundings as you please, just...don't enter any private rooms and do not harass my people."

"Hmmm." Harry mused once the young lord left them to their own devices. "Hey, Sigrid, you want another baby too, right?"

"Aye." She nodded eagerly.

"How would you like to go about making one in the master bedroom?"

Sigrid blinked in confusion. "But doesn't that belong to...ooooh, you're suggesting we fuck in Edwyle and Marna's bed?"

"Yes, yes I am."

She matched his grin. "Aye, let's do it."

XXXXX

6th day of the 3rd moon, 237 AC. The Crownlands, King's Landing.

They left Winterfell before their little surprise for the Lord and Lady Stark could be found and continued on their tour of the Seven Kingdoms. Their path from there was a zigzag across the continent, going Winterfell – White Harbor – Moat Cailin – the Eyrie – Gulltown – Harrenhal – Riverrun – Pyke – Lannistport – Casterly Rock. They avoided notice there for the most part, but it became a running gag for them to have sex in the bed of whoever was in charge before leaving.

After Casterly Rock, they veered towards King's Landing, which elicited the strongest reaction yet.

"By the gods, this place stinks." Sigrid gagged, holding a hand over her nose and mouth.

"That's what poor planning and neglect of infrastructure gets you." Harry agreed, casting a modified Bubblehead Charm that only covered the nose and mouth. His skill was such that the spell was barely visible aside from a minor distortion of air.

"That's better." Sigrid sighed in relief as the stench disappeared. "But what's 'infrastructure'?"

"It's a...ummm." He had to pause to consider how best to explain the concept to someone used to living in a very primitive society. "Well, think of it like this. The more people that live in the same space, the harder it is to feed them, get rid of the shit they produce and supply them with everything else they need in order to live. That's infrastructure, and King's Landing is a good example of what happens when you neglect to maintain it. In its early days it was probably quite impressive, but most of the Targaryens and other nobles probably considered making sure that the mountains of shit the people in this city produced got disposed of as being beneath their dignity, leading to the current situation."

"Ah." Sigrid nodded her understanding, then directed a scowl towards the Red Keep that loomed over the city. "And let me guess, they only took care of the castle."

"Naturally, that's where they live after all."

"I want to see it, and this iron chair of theirs."

"Then take my arm, keep your back straight, stick your nose in the air and sneer as if the world owes you something."

The ancient trick of simply pretending you belonged somewhere worked as well as ever, and the guards didn't even blink in suspicion as they let them into the Red Keep. Why would they? Sigrid was wearing an obviously expensive dress with even more expensive jewelry, covered by a high quality cloak and Harry was similarly well dressed.

And if the confounding spells on their bracelets fogged up the minds of anyone that caught sight of Harry's scars and Sigrid's Thenn tattooes then all the better.

They made it across the courtyard and into the keep proper with the same ease and meandered through the halls, giving a nod of greeting to anyone they passed.

"This castle has almost as much junk as Casterly Rock." Sigrid noted as they passed by yet another tapestry.

"One of the pitfalls of wealth that young people often fall into is the desire to buy stupid shit in order to show it off." Harry replied, not elaborating that his definition of 'young' was 'anyone below two centuries'. "Ready to see the throne room?"

"Aye, let's go see the iron chair."

As it turned out, Aegon V was holding court right then, so the throne room was full of courtiers and petitioners, but that wasn't the first thing that caught Sigrid's eye.

"Dragon skulls." She breathed, staring a the great collection of black bones hanging from the wall. "Not as big as Cannibal's though."

"Well, these ones were younger when they died."

Sigrid hummed in acknowledgement and looked at the throne. "And their breath was used to melt the swords that throne is made of?"

"Yep."

"No wonder it's so ugly."

"Heh, quite. Though I have to give Aegon I credit for making a statement, and the sentiment behind that abomination isn't a bad one." Harry admitted, remembering a passage about the Conqueror saying that a king should never sit easy. Of course, Aegon I Targaryen had still been an entitled, greedy dumbass, but what else could you expect from a Valyrian?

"The one sitting on it right now looks weak, though." Sigrid scoffed quietly.

"He is weak." Harry agreed. "He may know what he wants and has his heart in the right place, but a king can't just push forward heedlessly. He must know precisely where he stands at all times, and make sure that he is being followed."

"I thought kneelers were supposed to obey their king without question." Sigrid commented with a derisive sneer.

"Legally speaking, yes, they're supposed to." He nodded, smiling wrily. "But of course, even kneelers have people who don't like kneeling among them. Quite a few actually, and young Aegon over there is trying to take away the power they feel they're entitled to, so they will drag their heels and fight him every step of the way."

"Isn't that what he's got those flashy bastards in white for? To crack skulls when people don't listen?"

"The Kingsguard? No, they're just supposed to keep him from being knifed in the back. An especially valid concern for this particular king. He is fortunate to have some very competent people protecting him at least."

"Aye, that big fucker looks like a tough one. Has to have some giant blood in him."

"That's the Lord Commander, Duncan the Tall. A terribly inspirational story about a man that started from nothing and rose to a position of great esteem largely on his own merit. I have to admit that I actually have a lot of respect for the man, even if I don't personally see the appeal in being a glorified bodyguard."

"But you don't have any respect for King Eggon or whatever his name is?" Sigrid asked.

"A little." Harry shrugged. "He lived life as he wanted to and lived it well, until he suddenly found himself in a position he wasn't suited for. I could respect him as a man, but not as a king."

"Then you won't mind fucking in his bed?" She smirked.

"My dear, it would take more than respect to stop me from fucking you in his bed."

XXXXX

Their tour of the Seven Kingdoms finished about a week after defiling King Aegon's bed, upon which they returned home. Sigrid came away from the trip with a renewed sense of smug superiority over the people south of the Wall, this time for the superior living conditions she enjoyed even over royalty, rather than for her undiluted First Men ancestry.

Seven days after their return, it was Oak's turn. Unlike her clan-sisters, the diminutive woman didn't ask to see distant lands or the works of men, but a place sacred to her gods.

XXXXX

20th day of the 3rd moon, 237 AC. The Riverlands, Isle of Faces.

"It's so peaceful here." Oak said wistfully, lying on the grass and staring at the red canopy of weirwood trees.

"A powerful bit of magic diverts any hostile attention from this place." Harry replied from his spot next to her. "Rather impressive, really. It's not even a proper spell, the sheer weight of meaning when the First Men and Earthsingers agreed to stop warring was heavy enough to create it, and with so many heart trees, the Old Gods have enough presence here to maintain it. Even the fanatical Andal invaders couldn't breach it."

There was nobody else on the small island and hadn't been in a long time. No Green Men or Earthsingers as legend and rumor might imply. Addam Velaryon had consulted with nobody when he came here a hundred years ago.

But it wasn't unreasonable to think that he might have had some kind of personal revelation. The Old Gods were indeed strong enough here that they may have guided him to it.

"A pact that men failed to keep." Oak's voice was tinged with regret. "Our ancestors promised to leave them the deep forests, but they broke the oath they swore."

"Mortals forget, and what was important to the father may not matter to the son." Harry shrugged.

"But the gods remember." She said, turning on her side to look at him. "Is that why you and Luna are planting weirwoods?"

"No." He smiled amusedly. "Luna is planting them because she thinks they're beautiful, I'm doing it because I want to see what happens."

"What happens?" Oak asked, confused.

"Mhm. What happens to a god if its religion is destroyed? Will it hurt the Seven if Westeros reverts fully to the Old Gods? Will the blood of the First Men in the Andals come to the fore if the Old Gods are dominant? Are the Andals naturally ungifted in magic, or is their worship of the Seven crippling their potential? I must know these things."

"Weirwoods spread across all the land, just as it was in the Dawn Age." Oak breathed in awe, pale green eyes gleaming. "I want to help."

"Oh? I thought you wanted another child?" Harry teased.

"I do!" She was quick to assert.

"Good, because it's too late to change your mind. You're already pregnant."

Oak just stared at him in shock for a moment before squealing in happiness and launching herself at him.

XXXXX

They stayed on the Isle of Faces for just over a week before returning home. Oak's personal outing with him was shorter than the others had, but she didn't really care. The Isle of Faces was the only place she wanted to see and she started missing her children too much to stay any longer.

And of course she also wanted to brag about her pregnancy, whereupon Luna blurted out that the others were also pregnant.

After the obligatory excitement settled down, it was finally Ava's turn to go on her chosen excursion, and she decided that she wanted to see the Free Cities.

XXXXX

They started playing tourist in Braavos. Ava was fascinated by everything, from the huge Titan statue, to the little barges making their way between the many islands making up the city, to all the different people.

She also discovered a liking to various troupes of mummers putting on shows.

Harry was personally reminded of mummies whenever someone said 'mummers', and felt the scars on his face itch when he recalled a particular one.

Unfortunately, Ava turned out to be a bit of a spectacle herself due to her abnormal height. The gawkers were annoying, and there was an amusing incident where she loomed over one of the city's courtesans like an angry cliff after said courtesan suggested that she would be quite the exotic attraction as whore. It had been meant as a compliment, but it came off as an insult across the cultural divide.

If it had been Hala, there would be another broken nose in the world, but the demi-giant woman was not as free with her fists.

They moved to the next Free City on the list soon after that, Lorath.

Once again, Ava was interested in all the strange customs, particularly the odd manner of speech the Lorathi used, and once again she drew a lot of attention in turn.

Their stay there was shorter, at Harry's insistence. Unlike Braavos, slavery was still practiced in Lorath and the incident in Braavos had highlighted the possibility that someone with peculiar tastes might be bold enough to approach with an offer to buy her. However laid back she was, Ava would react to that with lethal violence and he wouldn't stop her because she'd stew angrily if he did. Riling up a city with a murder in broad daylight was still less trouble than dealing with an resentful woman.

They traveled across western Essos in this fashion for some time, from Lorath going to Norvos, then Qohor, then Pentos and then down to Myr, west to Tyrosh, and south again to Lys.

That was where things went a bit pear-shaped.

XXXXX

13th day of the 4th moon, 237 AC. Lys.

Harry's eyes flew open as he felt his alarm wards being tripped. He had long ago gotten into the habit of never sleeping in an unsecured place without them and it had proven a wise precaution multiple times in the past.

He already knew what the deal was this time. He and Ava had spent at least one night in every Free City they'd visited so far, but always left before anyone could get ideas. Apparently there was someone in Lys that got ideas quickly.

Honestly, he had been expecting it to happen in Tyrosh, which had the most aggressive slave raiders. Go figure that it would happen in Lys, the city known best for its sex slaves. Probably someone specializing in more 'exotic' merchandise.

"Ava, wake up." He said, shaking the woman slightly.

"Huh, what is it?" She asked, getting her wits about her quickly. Her own danger sense hadn't let her sleep deeply either.

"We're about to have company." Harry said, getting up but not bothering to get dressed.

Ava got up as well, and Harry cloaked them in shadow while casting a transfiguration on the bed to make it seem like they were still there.

The door clicked open mere seconds later and three men quietly stepped inside. They didn't speak, merely communicated through gestures what each was to do.

Harry gave them just enough time to realize that their quarry wasn't there before petrifying them in place.

"Good evening." He greeted cooly, stepping out of the shadows.

They didn't reply, possibly on account of their jaws being frozen in place, but their eyes moved wildly in terrified realization.

Still naked, Ava slapped a heavy club against her palm and grinned.

XXXXX

Samara Saan was wrenched from sleep by a bucket of ice cold water. She instinctively tried to gasp, but found her mouth unable to move. In fact, she couldn't move anything other than her eyes.

"Wakey wakey." A man said mockingly, leaning over her. Strands of long, silky dark hair fell over burningly bright green eyes, but the thing that struck her the most about him was the scars. She recognized those scars and the chill that ran up her spine had nothing to do with the cold water.

"Well, well, well, it seems like you've figured out what this is about. Congratulations." The man continued in the same mocking tone.

Now a woman came into her vision. Enourmously tall, and with a thunderous scowl twisting her already ugly features into something terrifying.

"You sent men to the inn and paid off the innkeeper to look away while they killed Harry and dragged me off to slavery." The woman said with rage dripping from every word. "To be a whore for your profit."

Yes, Samara had done that. Lys prided itself on the beauty of its people and skilled bed slaves, but there was also a market for those with unusual tastes. Dwarves, cripples, the maimed...it was a dirty little secret that nobody talked about. This ugly giant beast of a woman would have been the main attraction and the temptation had been too much. They were foreigners and had no guards, it should have been easy.

"They're all dead." The huge woman said, hefting a club. It was caked in drying blood and worse. "And now it's your turn."

Samara felt bile rising in her throat at the sight of the filthy weapon, but that feeling was far outpaced by fear. She tried to speak, to beg for mercy or to bargain for her life, but her mouth wouldn't move.

"There's no use in begging." The man, Harry apparently, spoke again, sounding utterly bored. "I don't like having my sleep interrupted and Ava's people don't negotiate with slavers. You're already dead."

Samara felt like she should be losing control of her bowels, but whatever poison they had given her prevented even that.

"Do you want to rape her before I bash her head in?" The woman, Ava, asked. She sounded hopeful.

"No." Harry replied dismissively, but Samara didn't feel any relief. If he'd wanted to rape her then she could have cooperated and maybe bought her life that way.

"Why not?" Came the angry demand.

"I like to take my time breaking my toys in. Just outright breaking them does nothing for me."

Ava huffed in frustration. "Fuck, I want this bitch to get a taste of what she intended for me before she dies."

"It won't make you feel better, but fine." Harry sighed and gestured to the side.

Samara's mind stalled in shock when she heard wood breaking and what appeared to be a chair leg fly into his hand.

A wizard. She hadn't been poisoned, she was under a spell. She had sent assassins after a magic user and tried to enslave his woman. If she could have she would have curled into a ball and prayed to the gods for help.

"Here, use this." Samara started paying attention again when the sorcerer spoke.

He was passing a wooden cock to his woman, with straps obviously designed to be fastened around the waist. It was far bigger and thicker than a real cock and obviously designed to cause pain instead of pleasure.

Desperate tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, but her body didn't even twitch no matter how hard she tried to move it.

"That'll do." Ava smiled in glee, strapping the fake cock around her waist. "Can you unfreeze her?"

"Sure, whatever. I'll wait for you outside."

Samara felt the magic binding her disappear, but now terror kept her as stiff as a board. The door clicked behind the uncaring sorcerer, leaving her alone in the room with a vengeful woman twice her size.

XXXXX

Harry shook his head at the sounds coming from inside the room. Ava was usually so laid back that when someone actually did manage to get her good and angry, the results were...excessive. It didn't help that she was pregnant and extra hormonal.

This whole fiasco was probably going to end up as some kind of urban legend/horror story in Lys.

Now that he thought about it, he might be able to incorporate that into his plans. He'd have to keep an eye on how the situation developed.

A good twenty minutes of sobbing, begging, screaming, wailing and finally, thudding, later, Ava stepped out of the room. The wooden strapon cock was nowhere to be found, but there were bloody smears on her clothes and her club had a fresh layer of gore caked on it.

"You done?" Harry asked, mostly as a conversation opener. She was obviously done.

"Aye." Ava glowered angrily. "I'm fucking done with Essos. Except for Braavos, the whole continent is a shithole. Let's just go home, I'm so fucking pissed right now I don't even want to see Volantis anymore."

"Probably for the best." He agreed. Ava's sympathies were reserved primarily for her own family, so the plight of the slaves hadn't made much of an impact on her, but it had still grated on her sensibilities and her fuse had been steadily burning down since Lorath.

A couple of hours later they were still flying back to Dol Guldur at a somewhat leasurely pace when Ava spoke up again. She had been stewing silently ever since they left Lys and Harry had left her alone to work through whatever was bothering her.

"Harry, do you have any plans to do something about the slavery in Essos?" She asked hesitantly. "It's not right, what they're doing."

"In a manner of speaking." He replied, amused. "I can certainly assure you that the slave trade is going to be experiencing some problems in the near future."

Although it wouldn't be because he felt bad for the slaves or morally obligated to do something about it. No, it would be for a higher cause. It would be for science.

XXXXX

21st day of the 4th moon, 237 AC. Dol Guldur.

Harry held a hand over the Glass Candle, his mind cast far away.

In Lys, the young son of a wealthy merchant dreamed of a bearded old man with a kindly face. The bearded man was dressed in what an Earthling would recognize as a Roman toga, and he spoke about the evils of slavery and of freedom being the right of all living things.

He was only the first. Soon, many others would also begin having this dream, from the lowest slave to the wealthiest magister, from Essos' western shore to the Bone Mountains in the east. Anyone that was receptive to the idea of slavery being wrong might start having such dreams.

Harry was trying to see if he could create a new god, and the desperation of the slaves was fertile ground. He was modeling the prospective deity on the Roman Liber Pater, the Free Father, although the name that would trickle into the minds he was touching would be 'the Father of Freedom'.

This was guaranteed to cause massive social upheavels all across the area, but that was of no concern to him. It wasn't the only trouble he was planning to unleash upon unsuspecting Essos.

Harry looked to the side and smiled at the red dragon egg there. That one had been his favorite from the start and he was eager to hatch it.

But it wasn't time yet. Just a decade or two more at most. One should always be careful to introduce as few variables into an experiment as possible after all.

Events were now entering a time of build-up; the spread of the weirwoods ever further south, the bloom of this new religion and the growth of his children. A steady pattern that would likely hold for at least ten years if not more.

It would take up most of his time and attention to oversee these things, so there would be no travelling to distant lands in the meanwhile, but that was alright. Time was one thing he had an abundance of.

For now, he had a picnic to attend. Luna had insisted that after he'd taken all four of his local women on their respective 'dates' that they have one as a whole family, including Ash and Velka. She had picked the Reach for its pleasant weather and sprawling meadows.

Adrastia had also been invited, but the Black Widow had very politely and evasively declined. Harry might mess with her deliberately, but he had nothing on Luna's genuinely kind attempts to include her in the family. She had been doing it for centuries and it never failed to make Adrastia uncomfortable. She could snark back at him and plot to inconvenience him as revenge, but she couldn't do anything against Luna.