CH 21: Rad Bromance

24th day of the 2nd moon, 292 AC. Dol Guldur

"There is something deeply unnerving about looking at a skull and knowing it is meant to be yours." Tyrion mused.

The fact that said skull was covered in arcane symbols that seemed to move if he looked at them from the corner of his eye didn't help.

"You think that's bad, just wait until you switch bodies and see your own corpse lying on the ground." Harry snorted, scribbling details about Elia's new body into a notebook.

"It may be best to keep Elia from seeing such a thing." Oberyn suggested, worried for his gentle sister.

"You worry too much, Oberyn." Harry dismissed. "The worst that can happen is a sudden realization of her own mortality and there's nothing wrong with that."

"Did that happen to you?"

The question came from the surprise addition to the curious group that had wanted to watch him work, Sarella Sand, Oberyn's fourth daughter.

She was Harry's favorite among the perpetually horny Dornishman's children.

He had only met his oldest two, Obara and Nymeria, in passing and had not been terribly impressed. They had their father's temper and he had certainly taught them how to fight with spear and daggers, respectively, but he got the distinct impression that stories about their martial skill had outgrown reality. They swaggered with the kind of cocky, self-assured arrogance that no real warrior, especially a female one, did.

Tyene, whom Arianne had indeed quickly pulled into bed with them, turned out to be Adrastia Lite. The blonde Sand Snake was a conniving sort that used her beauty, innocent appearance or, if it came to it, knowledge of poisons to her benefit. Unlike Adrastia, she was woefully inexperienced and in her own way just as temperamental as her older sisters.

By comparison, Sarella was a calm, highly intelligent and most importantly, very curious girl. She had asked if she could watch as soon as she heard what he was doing and had been incessantly questioning him on the process, as well as on a plethora of unrelated topics.

This slowed down his work considerably, but Harry didn't care, too happy to have someone that genuinely wanted to learn around him. He was planning to offer her an apprenticeship once the skeletons were done and had high hopes that she would be a skilled alchemist by the time his and Arianne's children were old enough to get started on returning the Rhoynar to prominence.

"No, I've had my realization of mortality long before then, but it was still an interesting experience." He finally answered.

"Speaking of interesting experiences, I've just recalled that Luna once mentioned that you could temporarily turn me into a woman." Oberyn interjected with a sly grin. "You said that you do not share bedspace with other men, but it would be no issue if I was not a man, no?"

Harry spotted Sarella huffing in displeasure at her father's derailing of the subject back into something sexual and hid a grin.

"I certainly could do that, but I won't."

"Why not?"

"Now that is a good question. Am I doing it because Luna understated the difficulty, because I can't be bothered, or am I just messing with you?"

"Well, surely if you can make new bodies for people, then simply making those bodies of the opposite gender is not so difficult?"

"Yes, I could, but why would I expend all that effort to satisfy your strange curiosity?"

"Because you are fucking my sister, my niece and my daughter? Family looks out for each other." Oberyn returned with a brazen grin.

"Then as the family elder, I am telling you that this is a stupid idea and you don't want to go through with it."

"Why not?"

"Because it would fuck you up, that's why. Do you really think I can just shove your very male mind and soul into a woman's body without consequence?"

"Are men and women truly so different?" Sarella quickly butted in again.

"Oh yes." Harry nodded firmly. "We might appear superficially similar, but the differences run deep. Our brains work differently, our hormones react differently to stimuli, our instincts are designed for different purposes, even the manner in which the body's electrochemical systems function is subtly different."

Oberyn and Tyrion looked completely lost by that point, but Sarella looked as if she was trying to make sense of what he'd said. Unlike those two, she had spent every spare moment of the past month at his side, asking questions.

"Then what would happen if you did grant Father's request?" She asked hesitantly.

"At first, it would be just the superficial things. He wouldn't know how to walk properly because his center of balance would be so different, he would continually overestimate his own strength because a woman's body has much less muscle mass and so on. Then a sense of wrongness would begin to pervade every action and thought as the dissonance between body and soul grew. It would get worse the longer he stayed female until it would eventually plunge him into a suicidal depression. And since I know that the dumb bastard would also want to experience what pregnancy is like, the damage would more than likely be permanent by the time he gave birth."

As unwelcome as Oberyn's attempts to seduce him were, Harry's sense of humor wasn't cruel enough to let him learn this lesson the hard way. His old test subjects from when he was first meddling with the concept had almost universally been driven insane by it, eventually.

The ones he released into the wild at any rate. The others had been driven insane much sooner by the fact that he, Dora and Fleur had used them to explore the darkest parts of their sexuality.

It had been a mistake. Immortality had a way of eroding morals, the passing years scraping away at them like sandpaper, but Fleur and Dora had begun to feel deeply ashamed of what they'd done years down the line, even if their victims had been slavers, pirates and similar scum before their enforced transformation. Harry hadn't felt guilty about it, treating the whole thing as a valuable insight into the darker parts of his soul, but his wives felt that they had gotten carried away by their lusts and hatreds. The fact that Luna had refused to participate only compounded that shame.

It had almost certainly contributed to their decision to die.

In any case, Oberyn wasn't getting his own tits to play with.

"Perhaps you would be best served to abandon this aspiration, Oberyn." Tyrion observed drily.

"I suppose." Oberyn conceded reluctantly, but quickly regained his grin. "Well, I can still work on seducing you at least."

"If you enjoy failure, then by all means." Harry snorted.

"Never!" The Dornish prince declared. "I have never failed to seduce a man or woman I have my eye on, and I do not intend to fail now."

"You never failed because you're a prince and your targets were either too scared to refuse or hoping to benefit from associating with you, not because you're so smooth." Harry punctured the man's ego mercilessly. The Dornishman was actually extremely smooth, but there was no need to tell him that.

Sarella quickly stifled a giggle and hid behind her notebook.

"My friend, how can you speak such cruel words?" Oberyn lamented.

"Easily. Now shoo, go spend some time with your newest daughter or something. I'll never get this done with your clumsy attempts at seduction distracting me."

"Come, let us not try the wizard's patience any further." Tyrion advised, waddling out of the room with an indignant Oberyn imuttering about 'clumsy' in tow.

"So, what are you doing today?" Sarella asked eagerly as soon as they were gone.

"Elia's pelvic region." Harry answered, pointing to the bones in question. "This part is especially tricky for women, as the reproductive systems are considerably more expansive than they are on men."

"How so?" She asked, pen ready to start jotting down notes.

Harry was happy to launch into a lecture on the topic, delaying the actual start of the work by nearly two hours. At this rate, he would be lucky to get the bodies finished in in three months instead of the projected two, but that was an acceptable delay when he had such an eager student.

XXXXX

5th day of the 4th moon. 292 AC. Dol Guldur.

Despite the delays, the work on the new bodies was eventually finished. The 'birthing' went smoothly and was witnessed only by Sarella, as Tyrion and Oberyn had gradually lost interest in the usually unexciting work.

Harry kept the waiting period shorter this time around, as he was more confident in his work and felt no need to keep the new bodies on life support for a whole month to see if they were as hollow as they should be.

"Is this…what I would have looked like had I been born healthy?" Elia asked in wonder.

The new body was several inches taller, bringing it up to 5'7''. The skin had the same olive complexion, but looked much healthier, especially on the face, which had always carried an exhausted and drawn tinge on the original. Perhaps the most notable change was in the chest area, which now sported a respectable pair of breasts instead of being flat.

"More or less." Harry confirmed.

"I should have been so beautiful…." Elia trailed off almost mournfully.

"You are already beautiful." Rhaella said in an almost scolding tone, although it was well meant.

"It was mostly your insides that were a mess." Harry added bluntly. "Which bring me to the next point. You're going to feel a lot stronger and more energetic in this body, but keep in mind that I didn't build it with metal bones like mine and Luna's, so don't do anything too crazy with it."

"Of course, I leave the madness to my brother." Elia replied with a tiny smirk, prompting Oberyn to feign injury at the minor barb.

"That goes double for you, Tyrion." Harry turned to the dwarf. "With the longer legs and different balance, you'll need some time to adjust, so beware of stairs."

"Noted." Tyrion acknowledged drily. "May I see it now?"

"You should check the cock first." Oberyn advised sagely. "It would be tragic if you became a bigger man with a smaller cock."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that the bro code requires Harry to give you a nicely-sized penis." Luna reassured.

Harry gave his wife a deadpan look. With the way she was pushing this 'bro' thing, it was really obvious that she wanted him to make friends with Oberyn and Tyrion. He didn't mind the idea exactly, but he certainly wasn't going to put in any extra effort to be nice.

"Yes, behold the bro code approved cock." Harry announced sarcastically and pulled off the sheet hiding Tyrion's new body.

At just over six feet and a leanly muscular build, it made for an attractive specimen.

"That is a nice cock." Oberyn gave his approval, still fixating on the genitalia.

"Why is the hair still in two colors?" Tyrion voiced, being far more sensible and focusing on the oddity instead.

"The heterochromia makes you unique, so I decided not to mess with it." Harry shrugged.

"I think it looks very handsome." Luna chimed in, causing Tyrion to instantly lose any disappointment.

Luna had that effect on people.

"Alright, how do we do this, then?" The dwarf asked, taking a fortifying breath.

"Kiss yourself on the mouth." Harry smirked.

Everyone not in the know paused and looked at him dubiously.

"I'm serious. There is a soul-drain spell inscribed into the inside of the skull and it needs the close contact to work."

"Harry, you are a dread abomination in the eyes of the Seven, to so easily speak of draining souls." Oberyn shook his head in amusement.

"I will take that as a compliment, now are you two going to get to the smooching or not?"

Tyrion and Elia exchanged a look before the dwarf visibly pulled himself up by his metaphorical bootstraps and stepped forward.

"I suppose 'ladies first' does not apply here, so I will go first…."

XXXXX

9th day of the 4th moon, 292 AC. Dol Guldur.

Luna liked watching people she cared for have sex, partly out of actual voyeurism, but mostly because seeing their pleasure made her happy.

Elia had been especially fun to watch ever since she got her new body. It hadn't taken much persuading to get her into Harry's bed since his awakening, but her frail constitution had necessitated a very gentle approach.

Now that she had a new body, the Dornish princess seemed determined to take full advantage of it.

"Harder!" Elia moaned against a pillow, bum raised into the air and fists twisting the sheets.

Harry exchanged a wry smile with Luna over the princess' head and obliged, increasing the force of his thrusts to the point that only his grip kept her on hands and knees instead of laid out prone on her belly.

This was round three for her tonight. It was almost as if she was trying to make up for all the fun her previous weakness had robbed her of, an attitude that Luna approved of and encouraged.

With one final thrust, Harry came and in turn set off Elia, making her shudder in pleasure while she bit down on the pillow to keep herself quiet. The Dornish princess was a bit self-conscious about making noise during sex.

Luna watched it with a big smile, wondering how long it would be before Elia was pregnant. With a new body, her damaged uterus and decaying eggs had also been replaced with new ones, leaving her as fertile as a girl in her teens.

And there was no doubt that it would happen. It was a change that she'd noticed in Harry. While he hadn't been super opposed to siring children before, he had always carefully considered whether he wanted them with the women that would be part of their life on a steady basis. Now he seemed completely unconcerned about it, almost eager to have more children. Arianne and Tyene were already showing small baby bumps and he'd looked inordinately pleased by it.

Luna decided not to bring this change in mentality to Harry's attention. Having more cute babies around was never a bad thing.

"What are you smiling about?" Harry asked, snapping Luna out of her thoughts.

He'd moved so that he was reclining against a pillow propped up on the headboard, with two women dozing on each side. Elia had stuck it out the longest, but now she was cuddled up with her former mother-in-law, while Arianne and Tyene took the other side.

"Just happy to have you back." Luna replied honestly, omitting her earlier thoughts.

"I've been back for months now." Harry pointed out bemusedly.

"Yes, but…." Luna argued and crawled forward to straddle his lap. A few firm strokes restored his member to full hardness and she wasted no time wiggling it inside her. "…I'm still happy about it."

"Fair enough." He grinned and eagerly returned the kiss she bent down to give.

Their souls reached out for each other and the intimate bond of the Joining fell into place. After so long, it was as natural as breathing, even with the changes to Harry's soul. She wasn't sure if she could have taken it if he had changed so much that they lost this closeness. It had already hurt so badly when Fleur and Nymphadora had left them…Harry drifting away as well would have been too much.

Luna broke the kiss and straightened up in his lap, pushing her breasts into his face. The implication of what she wanted was clear and he obliged without any resistance, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it until her milk began to flow.

Luna sighed in deep contentment. She knew perfectly well that she had developed a severe addiction to breastfeeding, but it was Harry's fault for dialing up the hormone response to the action up to eleven. He would just have to take responsibility for it.

It was even better when they were Joined, as the pleasure of it echoed across their bond, mingling with the purely sexual sensations of their coupling.

No matter how slowly they took it, neither of them could last very long when they did this and it was only a few minutes before they felt their shared climax approaching.

Luna wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him tighter against her breast, panting in gasping little cries as he suckled harder. The movements of her hips became more urgent and his fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her against him in perfect sync.

The orgasm came the way it always came when the pleasures experienced by these optimized bodies was enhanced by the closeness of the Joining, with overwhelming force.

Harry groaned against the flesh of her breast and sucked on her nipple painfully hard, but the small pain got lost in the sea of pleasure. Luna threw her head back in a silent scream as her body shuddered under a succession of orgasms, every spurt of her husband's seed setting off a new one, which echoed back across the soul bond and set him off again in an endless feedback loop.

It didn't stop until Harry's body was too worn out to produce any more and by that point they were both drenched in sweat and trembling uncontrollably.

Luna was vaguely aware of the fact that they'd woken up those of their other lovers that had been sleeping, and now all four of them were staring with wide-eyed lust. None of that mattered right now, though. For the moment, it was just her and Harry.

The desire have the small lake of his hot seed now churning inside her impregnate her was as strong as ever, making Luna momentarily regret requesting that this body have no eggs. Sessions like this one, especially with other pregnant girls in her husband's harem, always made her want to be a mommy again.

But as wonderful as it would have been to have more children with Harry, the pain of losing them would be even worse. She knew that she was impulsive, which was why it was for the best that the choice was denied to her.

"Make sure you come back to me." Luna murmured, referring to the trip he was going on tomorrow with Oberyn and Tyrion.

"Always." He promised and made a beckoning gesture with his fingers, summoning forth the Ever-full Water Pitcher they now kept in their bedroom.

Luna took it and greedily began guzzling down the cool water. These new bodies might be capable of feeling pleasure more intensely than any natural ones could, but with the amount fluids they output during sex – plus the milk production – dehydration could be a serious problem.

Harry solved his own hydration problems by latching on to the nipple that he hadn't mauled earlier.

"Harry." Luna moaned, trying to protest but not quite able to do so through the hormonal fog his actions caused. He was undermining her effort to hydrate and making her hungry again.

A slightly harder suckle quickly obliterated that thought. Eh, whatever. She could get a snack later.

XXXXX

11th day of the 4th moon, 292 AC. Iron Islands. Pyke.

Balon Greyjoy was not one would call a handsome man at the best of times, but the current expression he was making combined with the iron fingers gripping his jaw made him truly ugly.

"Hmm, I can't tell if you're naturally this much of a cunt or if the Seastone Chair made it worse." Harry talked to himself, turning the captive lord's head this way and that, inspecting him as if he was a particularly curious species of insect.

Balon gargled something, probably curses or orders for the guards to kill him. Futile of course, as those guards were either dead or unconscious all over the throne room.

"Harry, when you said that you needed to check on something on the Iron Islands, you neglected to mention that you would be manhandling its Lord Paramount." Tyrion said in a long-suffering tone, one ear on the commotion outsides the barred doors.

He was acutely aware of the fact that this was enough to start a war and, while Harry might not care about that, he and Oberyn were also here, inadvertently representing the Westerlands and Dorne.

"What are you even attempting to discern?" Oberyn asked, much more laid back than his younger compatriot in this venture. "And could you not have simply asked?"

How odd for him to be the one advocating for more diplomatic approach. Was this what his brother felt like? It was not an enjoyable position. Perhaps he would be more considerate in the future.

"Don't be ridiculous, Oberyn. Why would I lower myself to talking to vermin?"

"You seem to truly hate the Ironborn." Tyrion, who had gotten used to the wizard being a rather laid back individual, observed curiously.

"I hate a lot of people. Priests, slavers, Dothraki, R'hllorites, Ghiscari, Valyrians, Muslims, Jews, Christians, hippies, political activists, social activists, professional victims, feminists, communists – especially the fucking communists – journalists, lawyers, bureaucrats,… where was I going with this?"

"I believe you were attempting to explain your disdain for the Ironborn." Oberyn provided, very amused. He recognized less than half of the people Harry had named and wondered what they had done to earn his ire.

"Right. See, the problem I have with the Ironborn – besides them being slavers – is that they're shameless hypocrites. If they stood by their principles and died the way they lived, I could have respected them even as I killed them, but they don't do that. As soon as things start looking bad they get on their knees and beg for mercy. Then, once mercy is given, they immediately start plotting to go back to their 'Old Way'. Either go out in a blaze of hellfire like Harren Hoare did, or give up on piracy start acting like you're actually part of the Seven Kingdoms. This wishy-washy nonsense of theirs just pisses me off!"

Balon tried to scream as Harry's grip tightened to the point that his jaw was in danger of being crushed, so he took a deep breath and continued in a calmer tone.

"Did you know that this brat over here has been planning a rebellion against the Iron Throne for years already? Ever since he took over from his father, in fact. He figured that the realm was weak without a Targaryen on the throne and was just waiting for a sign of weakness from Rickard to get things started. And it wasn't even for a good reason, he just wants to feel important."

"That would be madness." Oberyn said, now looking at the Lord Reaper of Pyke oddly. "No matter their dominance at sea, they could not hope to prevail against the rest of the realm."

"Nobody has ever accused Balon of being smart."

Balon gargled something again, eyes burning furiously in their sockets. His hands battered ineffectually at the arms of the much bigger man holding him.

At that moment, the doors were broken open and Ironborn charged in, two of Balon's three brothers at the front.

"Release the Lord Greyjoy at once!" Viktarion Greyjoy yelled, his kraken helmet making him look quite menacing.

"Ah, more test subjects have arrived." Harry grinned, negligently shoving Balon to the ground. A quick spell sealed the broken doors shut, preventing any escape.

"Father!" One of the younger men yelled in concern, most likely the heir to the Iron Islands.

Violence seethed in the air. Oberyn readied his spear, prepared to fight to the death and Tyrion raised the Valyrian steel blade that Harry had tossed his way before they left Dol Guldur(much to his shock).

"KILL HIM!" Balon interjected into this charged atmosphere, recovered from his manhandling. "KILL THEM ALL! SEND THEM TO THE DROWNED GOD!"

Before the Ironborn could act on that order, Harry swung around with a brutal backhand that struck the pirate lord right across the mouth, sending blood, spit and broken teeth flying.

"That's enough out of you, worm." He said, pushing back the Ironborn with a wave of force before they could avenge the assault on their lord. "Now, is everyone going to calm down or do we have to get rough?"

Most of the armed men were cowed by the show of power, but the leaders were made of sterner stuff. Well, that was the case for Viktarion Greyjoy at least. Euron was made of crazier stuff and did nothing but grin madly at seeing actual magic used.

"You think we will cower before you, Sorcerer?!" Viktarion bellowed, charging forward with axe at the ready. "DIE!"

He was answered by crackling tongues of lightning that wrapped around him like tentacles, cooking him inside his armor and eventually making his heart burst.

"Yes." Harry replied blandly into the dead silence that followed. The intense aura of stupid from the now dead Ironborn had pushed him to make that little warning shot lethal instead of merely painful.

"Storm God…" One of the guards choked out.

Harry held back a snort. A little lightning and suddenly you're a god. Such low standards.

"It may be best to do as he says." Oberyn advised, seemingly helpfully. The smirk he couldn't quite conceal gave him away, though. "Our wizard friend here is notoriously short-tempered, as you've seen."

"You're damn right I am, fucking pirates wasting my time." Harry grumbled. "You there, with the eyepatch!" He picked out the most pirate-looking of the pirates, not only for the amusement value but because this one also had the highest magical potential of all the Ironborn and would theoretically be the most affected by the black stone.

"Me?" Euron Greyjoy asked, also with a careless grin that didn't fit the atmosphere at all.

"No, the other one-eyed man." Harry retorted sarcastically. "Of course you, you dumb fucking pirate. Get over here."

Still looking as pleased as a cat with a new toy, Euron ambled over to the Seastone Chair and practically oozed into it. "Now what?"

"Now look into my eyes…."

Harry dove into Euron's mind, looking for any external influences.

Unfortunately, it became immediately clear that Euron Greyjoy was an utter psychopath of the high-functioning persuasion. And not a mostly benign psychopath like Harry himself was, but an actively malicious one. There were so many dark impulses in his psyche that finding any potential external dark influences would be like looking for a needle in a stack of slightly different needles.

Of course there was always the chance that the black stone wouldn't cause any aberrant behavior in humans exposed to it, but that was just a wee bit unlikely given the legends around it and the sheer wrongness it exuded.

"Alright, you're useless, get off the chair." He sighed, already turning around to pick his next target.

He also made a mental note to murder Euron before they left. The trouble that a man like him could cause if he somehow learned to use magic, especially with the eldritch horror vibe those rocks were giving off, didn't bear thinking about.

"Don't try it." Oberyn's calm voice came from behind and Harry turned, finding him staring at one of the guards who was trying to stealthily bring up a crossobw.

"Listen to the Dornishman." Harry advised. "You won't like what's going to happen if you point that at me."

The guardsman balked, but a furious glare from Rodrik Greyjoy, Balon's eldest son and heir, spurred him onwards. He raised the crossbow and pointed it at Harry.

Harry sighed in disappointment and made a grasping gesture, tearing the weapon out of the man's hands. Then he theatrically snapped his fingers turned him inside out with a sickening 'schlurp' sound.

"Always the hard way." He shook his head in disgust, paying no mind to the green faces and retching sounds.

"Was that…necessary?" Tyrion asked, looking on the verge of losing his lunch.

"Most likely." Euron of all people interjected with a grin, looking positively delighted. He had made his way down from the Seastone Chair and ambled close to Harry.

Harry drew Blackrazor and stabbed him in the gut.

"Why…?" Euron croaked out in agony, a surprised expression on his face even as the dagger's curse destroyed him from the inside out.

"Because you're too crazy to be allowed to live." Harry replied, letting the one-eyed pirate collapse to the ground. Then he pointed at Rodrik with the dagger. "You there, go sit on the chair."

Rodrik looked like he very much didn't want to.

"Don't worry, I promise not to stab you afterwards."

Not really reassured, but knowing that he didn't really have a choice, Rodrik slowly and cautiously made his way over to the Seastone Chair.

Harry dove into his mind as soon as he was seated and was relieved that it was not another Euron. Rodrik was a mean little shit and thought that was something to be proud of, but he was merely a product of his rotten culture rather than being a natural psychopath.

Searching his mind for any influences by the black stone wasn't really turning up anything though. He could feel its incomprehensible buzzing around the edges, but nothing overt was happening. Maybe it took a while before there was any notable effect?

"Has your father exhibited any personality changes over the past few months?" Harry asked.

"…What?" Rodrik scowled.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he had to use small words. "Has Balon Greyjoy been acting differently since the new year started? Did he make any odd decisions? Has he been more angry or more calm? Did he start keeping more to himself or going out among the people? Has he become crueler or more merciful? More obsessed with the Old Way? Did you notice if his mind had begun to crack under the weight of incomprehensible cosmic horror that man was never meant to understand?"

Rodrik blinked, surprised out of his mulish resentment by that last one.

"Boy, if you don't hurry up and answer I'm going to start killing people."

"Well, he would talk about taking back our rightful place more often." The Greyjoy offered.

Harry frowned in thought.

"…inconclusive." From what he'd heard, that wasn't necessarily out of character for Balon. "I need more data. Rejoice, Rodrik Greyjoy, you are the new lord of the Iron Islands. All hail. Long may he fail to reign properly."

That set off a storm of confused shouting, ranging from demands to know what the fuck he was talking about to recriminations for thinking that he could make such a decision for the Ironborn. Oh, and a few protests that Balon was still alive.

Well, that last one was easily fixed by a hard kick to the unconscious man's head, which set off more angry shouting.

"Come on, Oberyn, Tyrion. We're done here." Harry declared, calling up the Nimbus Cloud and walking to the hole in the throne room that he'd made earlier to serve as their entrance.

Seeing the enraged Ironborn only being kept at bay by their fear of magic, the Dornishman and former dwarf were quick to jump onto the cloud and make their escape.

Once they were safely in the air, Tyrion finally voiced his unease with what had just happened. "I hope you realize that you probably started a war by doing that."

"Feh. What are they going to do? Spend more than half a year sailing around all of Westeros to get their revenge? My children and grandchildren will be happy to tear their precious Iron Fleet to shreds if they even make it that far." Harry scoffed.

"They may decide to go after Dorne or the Westerlands since we were there as well." Tyrion pointed out.

"This is true." Harry nodded, frowning slightly. "Eh, I suppose I'll keep watch for it, even though Balon was eventually going to start something anyway. If it looks like they're about to set sail in force I'll send out warnings."

Oberyn chuckled, clearly not as bothered as Tyrion. "A man could lose himself in this power you wield. All I did was accompany you and it felt like stepping on ants. How have you not yet conquered all of Westeros, possibly even the whole world? If I had such might, I am not sure that I could have resisted."

"You're still young and stupid, Oberyn, and I'm old and cranky. Ruling the world sounds fun until you actually have to rule it. Now enough about that, let's go to Casterly Rock so Tyrion can have his hopes crushed by his father."

"He might accept me." Tyrion protested weakly.

"Yes, I'm sure daddy will love you now that you're tall. Your new height will act like a chisel, chipping away at the walls around his heart that he's spent his whole life building. Tears will gather in the corners of his eyes as he apologizes for being a stone-cold cunt since you were born. It's going to be so beautiful, Tyrion, you can't even imagine it."

Oberyn was legitimately in danger of dying, either from laughter or from falling off the Nimbus Cloud.

Tyrion on the other hand, could do nothing except look away with his face burning from embarrassment.

"So this is what she meant when she warned me not to take it to heart." He muttered, recalling the whispered words Luna had spoken to him just before they'd left.

XXXXX

1 hour later. Casterly Rock.

Tywin Lannister did not like uninvited or unannounced guests, this was a fact known to everyone in the Westerlands. The servants were thus confused when he gave orders to extend every possible welcome to the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur and his companions when they suddenly showed up on a flying cloud, unannounced and uninvited.

That was because they didn't know that Tywin had been trying to arrange a meeting with the man for over a decade. The continued refusals, politely as they had been worded, had irritated him, but he kept hold of his patience. The king of a foreign kingdom would have little cause to meet with a lord not his own, and he knew that many other lords of the Seven Kingdoms had been similarly refused an audience.

But now the man was here and Tywin was….well, maybe not happy, but pleased. Even in spite of the surprise appearance.

With all haste, he marshaled his family to properly greet their distinguished guest and his companions.

That one of said companions was the Red Viper of Dorne, did put a bit of a sour taste into Tywin's mouth, however.

Many years ago now, Princess Doreza had come to Casterly Rock with Oberyn and Elia and proposed they be married to Cersei and Jaime. Joanna, his wife, had been a good friend to the then-ruler of Dorne and supported the match, but Tywin had dismissed it and rather rudely at that, even offering Tyrion as a husband for Elia instead of Jaime as a way to give further insult.

He had been so certain that Cersei would be Rhaegar's bride, that anything less had seemed like an insult.

Would that he had accepted, Jaime might now be at Casterly Rock where he belonged, with a wife and children of his own. And perhaps the notoriously virile Oberyn might have bred his daughter where Edmure Tully seemed incapable.

He could almost hear his beloved Joanna scolding him from beyond the grave, echoing the words she had spoken when he first turned Princess Doreza away.

Those thoughts, however, were quickly banished from his mind when he finally recognized the other man the Sorcerer brought with him. The mismatched hair and eyes were eerily familiar.

"Tyrion?" Tywin asked, only sheer habit keeping the absolute shock out of his tone.

"Greetings, Father." Tyrion said, standing up straighter. The Old Lion noticed that he was ever so slightly taller than him now.

It didn't take long for Tywin to guess who he had to thank for no longer having a dwarf son. He also noticed that his family and servants were starting to mutter to each other in shock. Soon, news would be all over the Westerlands.

"We should speak in my solar." He said, turning around starting to walk there.

XXXXX

Tyrion was starting to dislike how often Harry ended up being right about things. The current situation was a prime example.

Before they had arrived at Casterly Rock, he had asked if Father engaged in petty intimidation tactics with his guests. Things like having his own chair be taller or having a dagger pointed tip-first at them lying on the table.

Tyrion had not been able to say one way or the other, as he hadn't been home in over a decade and had never been in his father's solar prior to leaving for his fostering in Dol Guldur. Regardless, he had not thought it likely.

And yet the chairs provided for himself, Prince Oberyn and Harry were uncomfortably low to the ground and there was indeed a naked dagger on the desk pointed at them.

Why did Father have to be so predictable? He could already hear Oberyn snickering at him.

"I have long been hoping to speak with you, Your Grace." Tywin began, addressing Harry.

"You should talk to Tyrion first. We're only stopping at Casterly Rock for his sake after all."

It didn't show on his face, but Tyrion could tell that his father was displeased to hear that.

"Yes, I see that you cured him of his deformity." The Old Lion noted neutrally. "He must have done something to impress you."

"He's a smart man and I can always appreciate smart men. Like I told him, a good mind is a terrible thing to waste."

The small praise made Tyrion sit up straighter. While Harry had returned to the world too late to take up the role of foster father for him, he was still a man to be respected and his word carried weight.

Which made the dismissive glance his actual father sent him all the more disheartening.

"Indeed." The tone was equally dismissive. A father would normally be proud to hear that their son was held in high esteem by others, but not Tywin Lannister.

"We'll give you two some privacy." Harry said, standing up and giving Tyrion's shoulder a brief squeeze as a show of support before leaving the room with Oberyn in tow.

Tyrion appreciated the gesture, as he already had a bad feeling about how this conversation would go.

"Well, Tyrion? What is it that you have to say to me? Have you accomplished what I asked of you?"

Of course he only cared about Brightroar or having familial connections to the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur. "No. Harry has not agreed to turn over Brightroar to our family, nor have I secured a bride for myself."

He didn't say that it was only since he gained his new body that such a thing would have even been possible. He still remembered that Father only cared about results.

"What else do you have to say to me, then?"

Bitterness made his reply blunter than he intended. "Will you accept me as your heir now that I am no longer a dwarf?"

"Jaime is my heir." Father retorted immediately.

"Jaime is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

"He will return to his rightful place soon enough."

Tyrion couldn't help but scoff. "Of course he will."

"Watch your tone with me, boy." Apparently the great Tywin Lannister did not appreciate sarcasm. A pity, as growing up in Dol Guldur had exposed Tyrion to a great deal of it.

"Or what? Will you disown me?"

"Do not tempt me." Father glowered.

Tyrion shook his head and slowly stood up. He had wanted to believe that it would be different, that his father would not be so petty as to blame him for Mother's death. Women died in childbirth all the time, it was an unfortunate fact of life that people without magical powers simply had to accept. Luna had long since talked him out of feeling any guilt for being born.

He knew that Father valued the reputation of House Lannister highly, and had hoped that now that he was no longer a stain upon it that things would be different, but Harry had been right, as usual.

Tywin Lannister didn't hate him for being a dwarf, he hated him for the death of his wife. The dwarfism was at best just something extra, at worst an excuse.

"Goodbye, Father." Tyrion said softly, a strange mixture of grief and relief making his chest feel tight. He had come back hoping to be accepted, but he would not wait for approval that would never come. He would not be treated like a servant by his own father, kept around for his uses and then sent out of sight.

Harry would be disappointed in him if he wasted his life like that.

"Where are you going?" Tywin demanded sharply. "I have not dismissed you."

He hates feeling like he doesn't have control. The idle observation sounded a lot like Harry.

"As I am clearly not wanted here, I am leaving." Tyrion said, keeping the mass of emotion he was feeling out of his voice with some effort. "We will not meet again."

"Tyrion!" The angry bark was directed at his back as he walked out of the solar, but Tyrion didn't stop. There was no more reason to stay.

Harry and Oberyn were waiting just outside and fell into step with him without a word. It took Tyrion a minute to notice that they were heading outside, clearly intent on leaving the Westerlands.

"He wished to speak to you." He said, unable to bring himself to refer to the man as his father just now.

"That's too bad." Harry shrugged. "I have to say that I'm a bit disappointed. Tywin Lannister has a reputation for being intelligent, but he apparently isn't intelligent enough to pick up on the hints I gave him."

Was it wrong to feel good about the fact that his father was being snubbed on his behalf?

"I always thought Lord Lannister to be quite the hypocrite." Oberyn mused. "He cannot tolerate even the smallest slight against him to go unanswered, yet he constantly insults everyone around him. Even now that he is an old man with no heirs, he still cannot see past his pride. You were right to call him a slave to his own hubris."

"I wish I had time to say goodbye to the rest of my family here, but we best not tarry." Tyrion sighed, thinking especially of Uncle Gerion. "Could we make a stop in Riverrun? Perhaps Cersei has mellowed out since we last saw each other."

"She hasn't." Harry assured.

"Well, in that case I can rub her nose in the fact that I am no longer a dwarf." He rolled his eyes, having not truly expected his not-so-sweet sister to have improved her disposition. He still remembered her shrieks of outrage when she learned that she was to marry Edmure Tully.

It had sounded like the torments of the damned, as if Father had told her that she was being sold to a Lyseni whorehouse.

"I like the way you think." Harry snickered. "Hells, maybe I'll give you Brightroar too, just to see if we can make Tywin keel over from sheer rage."

"Now that would be something to see." Oberyn laughed.

Tyrion smiled to himself. He might have lost all hope of ever gaining his father's approval, but the future was not bleak by any means.

XXXXX

2 hours later. Riverrun.

They had set off on their journey early in the morning and, after gallivanting around half of Westeros so far, arrived at the seat of the Riverlands early in the evening.

Their arrival was met with the usual shock, chaos and imposition, but Edmure Tully still greeted them with full courtesy. He might not be the smartest of lords, but he was pretty good with people.

Something that could not be said for his wife. Cersei looked as if something foul died right under her nose the whole time. A look that managed to get uglier when she realized that the dual-colored man that reminded her so much of Jaime was actually Tyrion.

Dinner was an odd affair. Cersei spent the whole time making snide remarks either to her brother or her husband, which Tyrion returned and Edmure just smiled through painfully. Harry and Oberyn were amused by the whole thing and spent much of the time seeing how many buttons they could push on. Oberyn especially enjoyed telling her about Elia's new life circumstances.

It didn't take a genius detective to notice that Cersei treated Harry far better than anyone else at the table. Forget speaking to him in a respectful tone, she was just shy of flirting with him.

Harry knew exactly why that was. Nevermind his stint of divinity giving him insight into some of her past actions, it was plain to see that Cersei didn't even consider herself a Tully. She never referred to herself as such, and pointedly wore only the red and gold of House Lannister.

Poor Edmure really had no idea what a monster he had married, largely because he was being willfully blind about it.

Every time Harry looked at him, he remembered the man's prayers. He had prayed to both the Seven and the Old Gods for help in handling the woman he'd been saddled with, but alas, his mind had been too closed off to hear the response.

It was the first time since his return to mortality that he was faced with this situation and he was discovering an odd itch in the back of his skull. He knew that he would normally just ignore this situation as having nothing to do with him, but now he felt like meddling.

Damn it, he was not a marriage counselor!

Unfortunately, he was going to have to act the part. The main trick of immortality was being able to live with yourself, and letting mental niggles like that pile up was a bad idea.

That didn't mean he was going to sit the two of them down and have them talk about their issues and how to fix their marriage though. Cersei was far too much of a vicious bitch for that.

No, he was going to have to take a rather more extreme approach. But first, to lay out the bait.

Harry turned his attention to Cersei's sworn shield, a man nearly as big as him with a horrible burn scar on his face. Sandor Clegane. Tywin had sent him as a guard for his daughter and eventual grandchildren.

"Would you like me to fix that for you?" He asked, gesturing to the scar.

His question plunged the dinner table into silence, but nobody was more shocked than Sandor.

"What?" The man asked gruffly, staring back at him with a bewildered frown.

"Your scar, would you like me to fix it for you?" Harry repeated politely.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Sandor demanded with a scowl.

"Dog, how dare you speak to His Grace with such disrespect?!" Cersei shrieked. "He is offering to fix your unsightly face, you should be down on your knees in gratitude!"

It might look like she was worried that Clegane had offended him, but in truth Cersei just wanted a demonstration of power. Well, that, and she also wanted to make herself look better in his eyes by berating someone for disrespecting him.

"No need for that." Harry waved off with an amused smile. "It's just a small thing, after all."

Such greed she had in her eyes. "Step forward and let him heal you, Dog."

Sandor's scowl was about to transcend the limits of humanity, but there was hesitation in his movements. He was nervous.

Harry stood up so that he was face to face with him and put a hand on the scar tissue.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit." He assured, noticing how stiff the man was. "Hmm, there is a lot of malice lingering here. Whoever did this to you had nothing but cruelty in his heart."

"Aye." Sandor growled in agreement.

Harry saw a flash of the event in question.

A young boy playing with a carved wooden knight. A much bigger brother entering the room and seeing it. Rage. Fire. Pain.

Harry blinked away the vision. It was a fairly common occurrence and he'd gotten used to it.

"That'll have to go first." He said softly.

Harry clenched his jaw in concentration as he pulled what appeared to be a black mist out of the old wound. As malice tended to be, it resisted and tried to cling to the scar tissue, but he had dealt with worse in the past. It was gone in seconds and dissipated into the air.

"There, now for the actual scar…."

Said scar was an ugly mass of 2nd, 3rd and 4th degree burns, going all the way down to the bone in places. Still, the damage was only skin deep, there not really being anything else there. Sandor had at least been lucky in that his brother had apparently pressed him down into the fire jaw-first, so his eye and the area around it was spared the worst of the damage.

"This is going to feel a little weird." Harry warned before he began working.

The least affected areas were easy, requiring no more than to have the skin smoothed over. The deeper burns required some actual reconstruction, but were still no challenge for a fleshshaper of his experience. Only once he got to the worst of the damage did he really have some trouble. There was nothing there to restore, so he had to get a bit creative.

For the missing skin, he essentially reconstructed what he could at the edges and then 'pulled' the fresh skin across the exposed bone. Not much different than what a doctor would do with a skin graft, really, except with less cutting.

"There!" Harry nodded with satisfaction at the job well done. "Your skin might feel a little bit tight across your body for a while, but it'll pass soon enough. I can't do anything about your missing ear or lips right now, but I do hate leaving a job unfinished so I'll make you new ones and bring them over as soon as Tyrion, Oberyn and I are done with our trip."

Sandor nodded numbly, rubbing at his now smooth face and apparently too stunned to speak.

"Incredible, Your Grace." Cersei said in awe, not even bothering to hide how turned on she was. "Truly incredible." Then she turned on her sworn shield with a glare. "Dog! Why are you not thanking him?"

Apparently no one had ever told her that it may not be a good idea to antagonize the person charged with protecting you.

Sandor was startled out of his daze and looked Harry in the eye with a much different look than earlier. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Eh, just call me Harry. I'm not your king." He shrugged,

He didn't fail to notice Cersei's calculating look. The bait was set.

XXXXX

Cersei was a bitter, bitter woman.

She had been cheated out of everything she deserved. First Rhaegar was stolen from her by that flat-chested Dornish slut, then Father married her off to some fish. She was a Lannister, a lion! The Riverlands were not even a proper kingdom! Marrying a Tully was beneath her.

She should have been the queen, married to handsome and noble Rhaegar Targaryen with Jaime at her side as one of the Kingsguard. Instead she had neither of them.

Now the gods saw fit to further spit in her face. Not only was she robbed of her proper place as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, others were also getting things that they did not deserve. Tyrion was no longer a dwarf and Elia was favored by the God-King of Angmar. How did that snake manage to keep jumping from one king to another?!

It was intolerable and Cersei decided to do something about it.

She had purposefully given Harry quarters close to her own and was now walking towards them, wearing nothing but a cloak over a thin nightgown. She would seduce him, show him a lioness' passion and he would take her away from this place.

He may not be Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, but he was powerful and that was all that mattered. Before the night was done, he would love her above all others. He would discard Elia and even his wife in favor of her. He would be so enchanted that he would want her to be by his side forever, and she would finally have what she deserved.

Cersei reached for the door, ready to claim her proper place in the world.

XXXXX

Harry awoke the instant his door was touched, not at all surprised when he sensed Cersei slipping in.

Whores were very predictable and Cersei was a whore if ever there was one. The only thing separating her from the ones working in a brothel was that she spread her legs for a different kind of coin. Power was what she lusted after, and his display during dinner was more than enough to tempt her.

He kept his eyes closed and listened to her approach, with body his ears and his spirit. She was trying to be stealthy, but she was too used to striding about arrogantly. Then there was a small, sharp inhale as she finally got a good look at him.

Harry could guess what she was seeing. He always slept naked and he had apparently mostly kicked off the sheet due to the summer heat. Leaving him largely exposed. His body was designed to a perfection that would take extraordinarily good genetics and a dedicated lifestyle to achieve and maintain, something that no man in this medieval era could afford to do.

With the moonlight shining in through the open window, he probably looked like something from the cover of a trashy romance novel.

Judging by the lust that quickly saturated her aura, Cersei liked what she saw. Too bad that she wouldn't like what was going to happen, because Harry intended to teach her a lesson in humility that her father had failed to impart, and it was going to have to be extra harsh to penetrate all that accumulated arrogance.

There was a rustle of cloth as she undressed and Harry had to stop himself from shaking his head in exasperation. She didn't even know how to seduce someone. Simply showing up naked was weak as hell.

The bed shifted slightly as she put her knee on it, hand reaching out to touch his chest.

Harry quickly snatched that hand out of the air, opening his eyes and pinning her with his stare. She froze in surprise.

"That's odd, I don't recall ordering a whore for the night." He said neutrally, deliberately keeping his tone neither positive nor negative. He let go of her hand and allowed her to jump backwards like a skittish deer.

Cersei's surprised expression quickly shifted into a glare.

"I am not a whore!" She asserted with poorly concealed anger.

"No?" He questioned mildly, pushing himself up so that he was sitting against the headboard. "Did you get lost during a midnight stroll and wandered into my room by accident, then? And I suppose you found the summer heat too stifling, so you undressed to combat it?"

Cersei's green eyes sparked with fury at the mockery, but she didn't storm out of the room. Instead, she tried to reframe the situation.

"I am here because I burn for you, Your Grace." She said, attempting a sultry tone. That was better than earlier, slightly. Clearly all that practice leading her brother around by the dick was paying off. Still, Jaime must have been laughably easy to seduce if she thought a come hither look and getting naked would do the trick.

"Is that so?"

Cersei's face briefly twitched into something more natural for her – the angry expression of a spoiled brat that wasn't getting what it wanted. Seems she didn't like the nonchalant response.

"It is." The blonde twit persisted with her sultry act, blatantly staring at the tent his erection had made in the sheets. "And I see that you burn as well. Shall we burn together?"

Harry's lips trembled from suppressed amusement at the cheesy line. It was like someone tried to cross over a romance novel with low budget porn. Or high budget porn, not like there was much difference.

"And what would this cost me?" He asked pleasantly.

"I told you I am not a whore!" Cersei snapped, scowling furiously.

"Ah, then you're just a slut, willing to cuckold your husband in his own castle to satisfy your cravings." Harry nodded sagely.

"That fish is beneath me!" She snarled. "The septon may have pronounced us married, but lions do not marry their lessers. Only you are worthy of me."

"Is that why you drank moontea to kill all the children he gave you?"

The casual question made her freeze in wide-eyed shock, so Harry continued speaking.

"Such a spiteful creature you are. Poisoning your children in the womb because Edmure wasn't good enough for you, Having Brynden Tully sent away because he didn't trust you, poisoning your goodfather because he wouldn't put up with your shit, poisoning Lysa Tully because her moaning about Petyr Baelish annoyed you… I saw it all. Edmure would pray to both the Seven and the Old Gods for guidance on how to make you happy. I heard and answered, but he didn't want to understand your true nature. It's a failing that many men suffer from, preferring to think the best of the women in their lives even as the truth stares them in the face."

Harry eyeballed his 'guest', noting her trembling. A lot of it was fear from being found out, but some of it was from the unsubtle implication of divine power.

"But don't worry about your petty secrets, I don't care what kind of monster you are. I'm more interested in knowing what you'll do now. Are you going to run off back to your quarters and pretend this never happened, or are you going to come over here and suck my cock like the whore you are?" He moved the sheet as he asked the question, exposing his rigid length.

Harry could see why Adrastia had so much fun toying with this woman. Cersei had a singularly impressive talent for painting herself into a corner.

Her eyes flicked downward, tongue nervously darting out to fleck dry lips. There was a mixture of lust and anger in her gaze.

"I could call for the guards."

"Please do, I would love to see you explain what you were doing in my room." Harry grinned, amused by the blatant stupidity of this woman. She really did have the foresight of a five-year-old, barely able to think a single move ahead.

Cersei balled her fists, frustrated by her lack of control in the situation. Clearly, nobody had ever resisted the power of her vagina before. And when that failed, she resorted to threats of force, forgetting that mere swords were no threat to him.

"Well?" He prompted, allowing impatience to seep into his tone. "If you aren't going to suck my cock then I'd rather you leave and let me go back to sleep."

There was still time to back out. He had given her the opportunity and insulted her enough to justify leaving in a huff without looking like too much of an idiot. But of course, Cersei Lannister was much too power-hungry to go for that.

Despite having eyes that burned with suppressed anger, she jerkily stepped forward and climbed onto the bed. Her gaze stayed fixed on his own the whole time and he didn't even need Legilimency to hear the deluded chain of thinking she was using to reconcile the humiliation with her ego.

She would fuck his brains out and he would be so impressed that he would give her whatever she wanted. This would mean 'winning' the game, thereby proving that she wasn't a whore even though she acted exactly like one.

Dissociative reasoning was a must have skill for any whore that wanted to believe she wasn't a whore. Also very handy for anyone else that didn't want to acknowledge reality.

Harry deliberately didn't move or make a sound as Cersei wrapped her lips around his shaft and began fellating him. The lack of reaction to her efforts would make her anxious and fearful. Plus, she really wasn't that good.

It was definitely in the top ten angriest blowjobs he'd ever received, though.

Probably. His memories about specific sexual encounters were among the fuzziest of his memories.

Several minutes passed with the only sound being the occasional slurp. Cersei's movements had slowly acquired a certain desperate edge at his continued lack of reaction.

Harry decided to step it up a level, taking a deep breath and exhaling a breath of air in a distinctly annoyed manner.

Cersei briefly froze, then attempted to intensify her efforts, but had to stop again then he grabbed her by the hair.

"Come on, you can do better than that." He said irritably, pushing her head down until she was gagging on his member. "What did you even wake me up for if you aren't going to put any effort into it?"

She couldn't answer, obviously, and continued alternating between gagging and desperately sucking in air when he let her. Predictably, Harry sensed her arousal sykrocketing because of the harsh treatment.

Not because she had any subby kinks, but because power turned her on. She'd be furious about it afterwards and probably cry rape, but as long as nothing derailed her libido she'd go along with it.

"I can smell your cunt turning into a swamp from all the way over here." Harry mocked, pushing her head down until the crown of his shaft was smashing into the back of her throat like a battering ram trying to break through the gates. "Do you enjoy sucking on a stranger's cock that much?"

Cersei gargled and gagged, gag reflex working furiously to expel the invader. Spit and tears ran down her face in a truly disgusting display.

Despite all of that, Harry still knew exactly what she would say when he allowed her to back up.

After a few coughs to clear her abused throat, she looked at him with the most genuine smile she'd given him so far, watery as it was. "It is because I love you, my king."

"Turning love into a weapon, you really are a whore." He mocked, lips curled in disdain as he pulled her back onto his member. "Finish me off, Whore, and you better swallow everything I give you. I haven't been putting up with your fumbling all this time only to have you spit on my generosity. Or spit out, as the case may be."

Harry chuckled, finally sensing some genuine outrage breaking through the lust in her aura. He'd been wondering how much abuse he could pile on before her delusions cracked.

He continued facefucking her for a minute longer before he felt his orgasms approaching and pulled her up so that she only had his tip in her mouth. "Get ready, here it comes!"

The force of his eruption obviously surprised her and her cheeks briefly bulged like a squirrel before she started gulping it down. That it was vanilla-flavored undoubtedly helped make it more palatable.

Once she was assured that there was nothing left, Cersei unwrapped her lips from his tool and looked at him with a slightly dazed look. Then, noticing that he was still hard, she smirked and turned around, wiggling her naked arse and sopping cunt in his face.

"Take me!" She moaned.

Harry placed his hand on one pale buttcheek… and pushed, just hard enough to send her stumbling awkwardly off the bed on all fours, yelping like a startled cat.

"Get out." He ordered.

Cersei got up, staring at him without comprehension for several seconds before the reality of the situation filtered into her consciousness.

"You…!" She growled, shaking with rage and humiliation.

"Think of it as a lesson that all whores should know." Harry began mildly. "Sometimes, the client will take what you're offering without paying you what you want. Besides, cucking one's host would definitely be a violation of guest rights."

Cersei was obviously too angry to speak, and was currently making a good attempt at chipping her teeth.

Harry decided to pour oil onto the fire.

"But I'm not completely heartless." He said, tossing her a pouch full of coin. "Here, for your efforts, pitiful as they were."

Cersei reflexively caught the coin pouch, then the implications of it dawned on her and she threw it back at him with an enraged shriek.

Harry caught it easily and raised an eyebrow. "Don't want it? Suit yourself. Now if you could please leave…? I'd like to get back to sleep."

"I…you…WHY?!" She demanded in a mix of desperation, fury, frustration and who knows what other emotion.

"Because I've known plenty of women like you." He answered flatly. "Whores trading their bodies and wombs for power and prestige. Never satisfied with anything, spreading misery and ruin everywhere with your greedy grasping. There is nothing wrong with ambition, but you aren't ambitious. You're just a spoiled brat that thinks the world owes her something. As you are now, the only thing you're good for is being a disposable cumbucket. Get out of my sight, Cersei, you disgust me."

For several long moments she just stared at him, as if unable to believe what had just happened. But reality could not be denied for long and it slowly sunk in. Angry tears gathered in her eyes and she gathered her clothes with shaking hands and jerky motions.

It was plainly obvious that she wanted to rage, scream, throw things, call the guards and any number of other ill-advised actions, but she was cognizant enough to know that it wouldn't go well for her no matter what else happened.

"There will be a reckoning for this!" Cersei hissed as she left, closing the door behind her very quietly. Somehow, she managed to make that action seem angrier than if she had slammed it shut with all her strength.

"A little humiliation is sometimes required to make introspection possible." Harry mused to himself, ignoring her empty threat. Then he snorted. "Although I'd place better odds on a winged zebra unicorn descending from the sky in a blizzard of cotton candy than I would on that woman getting a clue so easily."

Never mind her sociopathic tendencies, she was too old and the entitled arrogance was deeply rooted in her psyche. While it was theoretically possible for this experience to make Cersei self-reflect and realize that maybe she was a huge cunt and always had been, more than likely it would require completely breaking her before it would happen.

He wasn't willing to invest that much effort into an irrelevant person like her. He would, however, give Edmure tips on how to do it himself.

XXXXX

12th day of the 4th moon, 292 AC. Riverrun.

The three of them had planned to leave immediately after breakfast the next day, but Harry pulled Edmure aside for a private talk first.

"What did you wish to speak of?" Edmure asked, managing to suppress the reflexive use of a royal address.

"Your marriage." Harry replied bluntly. "It's a disaster."

"I assure you that my marriage is fine." Edmure denied swiftly. "Nor is it any of your concern."

"Don't give me that, boy. I heard you praying to the weirwoods for help. I sent you an answer, but you didn't know how to listen, so I'm going to tell you directly now."

"Oh." The young lord of the Riverlands swallowed nervously. "I see."

There was something amusing about reminding people that you had supernatural powers. They were used to politics and had no idea how to act when faced with real power.

"The first thing you should know is that your wife is a whore."

"What?!" Edmure exclaimed in shock."Cersei is a noble lady of high birth! Have a care how you speak, Sorcerer!"

Such misdirected courage.

"I'm serious, she is a whore, one who fucks for profit. She came into my room last night with the intent of fucking her way into my good graces." Harry pressed on relentlessly.

"She wouldn't…." Edmure denied weakly.

"Wouldn't she?" Harry asked archly. "She treats you like shit and makes no secret of how beneath her she thinks you are."

"I…" The young lord quickly capitulated, unable to deny that. "Then what do you suggest I do? I have tried everything I could think of, but she gets more angry and bitter with every passing year."

"First, you really need to stop tolerating her disrespect." Harry advised. "You're a lord and your vassals won't respect you if your wife doesn't. Slap her around if she mouths off, and give her a proper beating if she persists."

"What?" Edmure was a mix of baffled and horrified.

While domestic violence as a concept had a much looser definition in a medieval society, it was still considered taboo and therefore not talked about openly. No man looked good when beating a woman and most lords took care to avoid being seen as such even if they were the type to do it. Having someone openly tell you to beat your wife was way off script.

"I'm not saying you should knock her teeth out or break her nose as if she was a man." Harry reassured. "That would just give her an opportunity to sulk and feel self-righteous. No, what you need to do is treat her for what she is – a grown woman with the emotional maturity of a cruel and selfish five-year-old child. Tywin Lannister filled her head with family pride, but neglected to temper it with any kind of humility, so now you're going to have to do it in his stead. Use a wooden paddle and spank her until she cries and can't sit down."

Edmure looked contemplative, clearly much more amenable to this version of spousal discipline. He was also looking thoughtful, as it had apparently never occurred to him to think of Cersei as a spoiled brat.

"Furthermore, you should restrict her freedom to move around the castle and command the household until she actually deserves that kind of power. Might as well send away any Lannister men while you're at it so that she has nobody to order around. Also, fuck her at least once every three days. She's your wife and has no right to refuse you."

Harry felt no guilt at all at exploiting the common fallacious reasoning of feudal societies that regarded marriage as lifetime consent to essentially tell Edmure to rape Cersei. The humility would do the vicious cunt some good.

"I do not wish to force her…" Edmure said uncomfortably.

…Of course, even feudal societies produce wimps.

"Look, Edmure, you're a nice guy. I understand that you don't feel great about it, but you can't leave her any means of exercising power. If she thinks she can control you by withholding sex then she won't break and she has to break if you ever want her to become something resembling a good woman. Be cruel to her now, so that you can be kind later."

"Be cruel to be kind?" The young lord muttered in confusion.

"Would it be easier for you if I told you that she's been chugging moontea to murder any children you put in her?"

Harry didn't mention the other things she'd done, as that would end with her being killed and probably kicking off a war because Tywin Lannister wouldn't believe that his daughter could do that. The Old Lion could be quite blind that way.

"She what?" Edmure couldn't believe it.

"Drank moontea to make sure no child of yours survived, because she thought you weren't good enough to have children with." Harry explained. "Honestly, with how much of the stuff she drank, she could have rendered herself barren already. In any case, if you can't bring yourself to take my advice, then put her aside and get a new wife, or sire a few bastards on a mistress and ask for them to be legitimized. Of course, then you'd have to deal with Tywin's displeasure."

"No, I do not believe you." Edmure said after a long moment.

"That's up to you." Harry shrugged and left. He had satisfied the itch in his brain, but it was of no concern to him whether the ginger idiot acted on his advice or not.

Their next stop was one that Oberyn had requested and since Tyrion got one it was only fair to let the Dornishman have one as well.

XXXXX

Highgarden.

Olenna Tyrell was generally not a woman who kept quiet while the men talked, especially when one of those men was her oafish son. Seven only knew what kind of foolishness he would concoct if he was left to his own devices for any length of time.

Sometimes, however, fading into the background was useful.

Such as when she needed to get the measure of the Sorcerer of Dol Guldur. Quite frankly, she didn't dare risk offending him. Much of House Tyrell's future good fortune depended on his whims. Olenna had been in talks with Elia Martell via letters of betrothing her granddaughter to young Prince Aegon, but all of that could be sunk at a word from this man. It rankled, that a sorcerer from beyond the Wall had such power over the politics of the Seven Kingdoms, but there was no use in complaining about it.

And that was not even acknowledging all the other reasons why offending him would be a terrible mistake. She had no idea what Volantis had done to anger him, but she refused to believe that a dragon he had hatched had just randomly attacked them. By all accounts, the destructions had been focused almost entirely on Old Volantis and its remnant Valyrian nobility. Maybe there was some truth to that rumor that he was the one that caused the Doom.

So she sat quietly and watched, and slowly felt her trepidation ease. The Sorcerer – Harry as he asked to be called – was not the kind of man she had imagined. While he certainly did not acknowledge House Tyrell's noble standing, neither did he lord his own position over them. After some consideration, Olenna realized that he was treating them as if they were not even part of the same world, which made protocol redundant. That was probably one reason why he insisted that they call him by name rather than by title.

Once that realization was made, she knew that holding back was no longer necessary. The power balance was completely in his favor, but as long as they did not try to step on the same scale, they were safe. Unnatural as it felt, blunt directness would work better than political games in this situation.

"So, Harry, I hear that you have a daughter with Queen Rhaella?" She spoke up, cutting off one of Mace's blustering statements. "Is she in need of a husband yet? Willas and Garlan are both fine boys."

"Grandmother!" Said boys protested in embarrassment.

Bah, they would get over it.

"She's only just turned fourteen – you would say four and ten – so not quite." Harry replied, a trace of amusement in his voice and expression. "That being said, if your grandsons want to try winning her over I won't stop them."

That was very good. Olenna had in fact been holding back Willas' hand specifically because there were no appropriately highborn ladies his own age available. There were talks of marrying Garlan into the Fossoways, but that could be called off if a better opportunity presented itself.

"How do they do that?" She asked, once again talking over the protests of her family. They still hadn't noticed that Harry was looking much more interested now that she was speaking bluntly.

"Willas would have an advantage there, as we are actually here to kidnap him." The sorcerer admitted casually.

Wait, what?

"You make it sound so sordid, Harry." Oberyn laughed. "I merely suggested that we bring him along on our bromance."

What in the Seven Hells was a bromance?

"You can't just invite extras to a bromance, Oberyn. You have to kidnap them, that's the rules."

Olenna noticed Tyrion rolling his eyes in exasperation and strongly doubted the truth of that statement.

"I see." Oberyn did not, if his sage nodding was any indication. "In that case I must apologize to you, Willas. You are being abducted."

"I trust you will be gentle with me?" Willas asked, clearly amused.

Honestly, the friendship between those two baffled her. First Mace, buffoon that he was, forces Willas to enter a tourney at too young an age, then the Red Viper cripples him.

Olenna had hated the man for that, but the Dornishman had made amends by asking the Witch-Queen of Angmar to come heal her grandson. The witch had done so, not that Olenna had known any of this until it was long since over and the witch was gone. The ability of these Angmari to freely enter castles was terrifying.

Ever since, Willas and Overyn had been friends. A useful connection to be sure, but it still baffled Olenna.

"Speaking of our, err…bromance." Oh good, she wasn't the only one to find that term strange. Tyrion didn't seem to favor it either. "Lord Tyrell, you may wish to fortify the coasts, and the Shield Islands in particular."

"Why?" Olenna spoke up before Mace could, narrowing her eyes at the former dwarf (and hadn't that been a shock?).

"Because our first stop was the Iron Islands." Tyrion spoke in a tone of exasperation. "Harry said that he needed to check on something there. Unfortunately, he decided to kill Balon Greyjoy and two of his brothers, as well as several guards, while he was there."

Olenna's self-control failed her and her jaw dropped. He'd killed the Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands? And two of his brothers? "Why?"

That last part wasn't meant to be spoken aloud, but Harry answered it anyway, shrugging unconcernedly. "One was too stupid to live, one was too crazy to live and one was just in the way."

Mace suddenly paled and audibly snapped his mouth shut, no doubt remembering the many, many times she had called him stupid.

"Well, nobody is going to complain about there being less Ironborn in the world." Olenna mused. "But why would they attack us for it?"

"They wouldn't attack you for that." Oberyn admitted. "However, Balon was already planning a rebellion against the Iron Throne and his son may decide to act on it."

Oh, lovely. That was exactly what Westeros needed.

"Well, nothing to do about that except prepare." Olenna shrugged philosophically. "If they try to attack the Reach, we will be ready. Thank you for the warning."

Tyrion inclined his head in acknowledgement. Quite the courteous one, not at all like his father. Maybe she should try setting him up with a wife from the Reach now that he was no longer a dwarf? Maybe a Redwyne girl? It was an interesting prospect.

"Indeed, we will send those filthy pirates back into the sea!" Mace blustered and Olenna had to hold back a sigh.

"I'm sure you will." Harry replied with a tone of droll amusement that flew completely over her oafish son's head. "We should get going, the Summer Isles are calling."

They were going to the Summer Isles? What for?

"You are going to like it there, Willas." Prince Oberyn enthused. "The women are truly exquisite."

Ah, that explained it. Degenerate lech.

"I am more interested in their exotic animals." Willas admitted.

"Whatever floats your boat." Harry shrugged.

What an odd expression.

"Do try to return my grandson intact and with his virtue unspoiled." Olenna said drily, deciding not to bother protesting his 'abduction'. It was clear that these three were going to take him one way or another.

"Not to worry, young lady, he'll be fine." Harry said, standing up.

Olenna twitched. Young lady? The cheeky wizard was mocking her.

XXXXX

Evening of the same day. Summer Isles, Walano, the Temple of Love.

"I have never actually been to the Summer Isles before." Oberyn said, looking in every direction with fascination.

Sarella's mother was a Summer Islander, but she was a ship captain that he had met while journeying to Essos.

"You really missed out." Harry replied, leading the way through the entrance of the huge temple complex. "If the entire world was like the Summer Isles, then it would be a much better place. I have never met a people more content to just live their lives without causing trouble for others. Even their politicians mostly manage to keep their power games from spilling over to the general population."

"You seem to admire them greatly." Tyrion observed in surprise, being more used to the wizard having a caustic opinion on just about everything. "Why did you not make your home here, then?"

"Well, for one thing I had already established myself beyond the Wall by the time I learned about them." Harry admitted. "Another thing is that their lifestyle is unnatural, Mankind is incapable of this kind of behavior without divine intervention, and you could say that I have some…misgivings….about relying on the meddling of gods for anything, even if the gods in question are tolerable. Plus, I dislike the heat."

"I must admit that I do not feel comfortable in a place where the Seven hold no sway." Willas spoke up.

"That's too bad, because the Seven did something to piss me off a few years back, so I'm going to kill them."

"What?!" The Tyrell heir squawked over Oberyn's laughter.

"Don't worry about it." Harry waved off. "Let's go talk to the High Priestess over there."

The priestess in question had noticed them since the moment they stepped through the doors of the main hall and waited for them with a smile on her beautiful bronze face.

She turned bright emerald eyes on Harry and bowed her head to him in greeting. "Father."

Harry needed a moment to place her. Not only had his memories been scrambled by his pseudo-ascension, but it had also been a long time. Still, she was definitely familiar.

"Zaza." He said once he remembered her name, smiling in recognition. "Look at you, High Priestess. The last time I saw you, you were still just a senior acolyte."

The men and women – boys and girls, really – who served in the Temple of Love generally only did so for a few years, but for some it was a calling.

"The gods have shown me much favor." Zaza replied with a demure smile. "Are you here to honor them?"

Harry could instantly tell that it wasn't just empty words. She was a true priestess in the way that Melisandre had been for R'hllor. The magical potential she had inherited from him allowed her to channel their will and power.

There was a distinct air to the temple now, it was her territory in the way that Dol Guldur was his. He could almost feel the air ripple with every word she spoke, compelling people to listen and take heed.

"Indeed we are." Harry nodded with a smile and gestured to Oberyn, Tyrion and Willas. "As you can see I brought some friends along."

"We will be happy to accommodate them." Zaza said and several young girls in acolyte garb came giggling out of a side passage. She had not sent anyone for them, but they had come anyway.

"If I may, I would like to honor the gods with you, High Priestess." Oberyn said, giving her a suave smile. He was more familiar with Summer Isle's culture and knew what they were in for.

"Oh, how bold." Zaza smiled widely, showing off perfect white teeth. "My devotion tends to be quite…intense. Do you think you can match me?"

"My dear lady, in my homeland I am known as a terribly pious man." Oberyn claimed, drawing a snort from Tyrion.

Although the former dwarf was mostly distracted by the flirting of yet another bronze-skinned, green-eyed girl.

If Harry remembered correctly, that one might be a granddaughter of his, as her skin was a bit darker and her hair coarser.

"Harry, did you bring me to a house of ill-repute?" Willas hissed into his ear, finally cottoning on to what 'honoring the gods' meant for Summer Islanders.

"It has a very good reputation, I assure you."

Zaza apparently also heard him, although it had to be through supernatural means since it was definitely too quiet to carry to her ear. Not to mention Oberyn's flirting distracting her. More than likely she had been able to sense Willas' discomfort.

"There is no shame in this place. Be at ease." She said, her words like warm honey.

Willas instantly relaxed, learned sexual inhibitions overpowered by the influence the High Priestess wielded within the temple of her gods.

Harry was intrigued. That level of Territory Creation was simply abnormal. At most it should have only resulted in a slightly increased presence, an increased ease of spellcasting for the owner of the territory and a corresponding increase in difficulty for anyone he or she disapproved of – a minor projection of one's Inner World on the outside, manifested by imprinting one's presence onto a given location through constant exposure. What Zaza had going here was way beyond that.

XXXXX

"You truly are a god." The acolyte murmured, a tired but satisfied smile on her pretty face.

Even after all these years, that kind of reaction was still a boon to the old ego.

"Go to sleep." Harry told her and the girl needed to further prompting to burrow further into his side and conk out.

Summer Isles girls were really something else. He was going to have to keep an eye out on Tyrion and Willas to make sure they didn't get any ideas about wife-ing one of them up. As amusing as that would be, he was supposed to be the responsible adult on this trip and therefore had an obligation to not let impressionable young idiots get hypnotized by pussy.

But that was for tomorrow and onwards, now it was time to get some rest. Harry closed his eyes and was asleep in a matter of minutes.

He blinked, finding himself on the courtyard in front of the Temple of Love. Before him were the gods of the Summer Isles, looking vaguely unsettled.

"Ah, did you want to talk about something?" He asked, knowing immediately that he was dreaming.

"Yes." Came the answer from the gods. "You should not have gone back."

Harry knew that they weren't talking about the Summer Isles. "I still have things I want to do as a mortal."

"The world is unsettled, you should not have gone back." They repeated.

"Yes, yes, I disturbed the natural order." He waved off impatiently. "I'm a wizard, it's in the job description."

"This is no laughing matter." They warned. "We cannot see it, but a great evil is now awakened."

Harry frowned. "I'll find a way to fix it." Many things could be said about him, but he was never one to create problems and then dump them on other people's shoulders.

His eyes abruptly opened and he scowled, good mood gone. Trust a bunch of gods to give out vague and unnecessary warnings, as if he wasn't already on the case.

XXXXX

They stayed in the Summer Isles for a week. Oberyn, Tyrion and Willas for more mundane pursuits, and Harry so he could study the Zaza's feat of Territory Creation.

While he knew that replicating what she had achieved was likely out of reach for him, past experience with godhood or not, he was still fascinated by it.

They couldn't dally forever, though, and eventually had to continue with the trip and the investigation that was its purpose. Their next stop was the Isle of Toads and the toad statue of black stone that stood there.

"I must say that I expected the rumors to be exaggerated." Tyrion said uneasily, staring at the corpse of one of the natives that had attacked them on sight.

Said corpse had a rather flat face, huge bulging eyes, a wide mouth, big hands and feet and a distinctly slimy greenish tinge to its skin.

"This isn't right." Harry frowned, poking at the corpse with his staff. "The last time I checked on them they weren't nearly this mutated."

His talk with the gods of the Summer Isles came to mind. A great evil, huh?

"The air here feels unpleasant, malignant almost." Oberyn noted, staring around uneasily.

"You noticed that too, did you?" Harry had sensed the offputting aura since the moment they landed on the island. He would bet anything that it was coming from the Toad Stone.

"We should leave, this is a godless place." Willas urged nervously.

Harry didn't correct him, but he feared that it was anything but. The relative lack of anything to find on the Iron Islands had made him a little bit hopeful that whatever was going on with the black stone wasn't a big deal, but now he was starting to worry that he had left the door open for something else to come back with him when he'd returned from the Astral Plane.

Hopefully they would be able to learn more from Yeen and Asshai.

XXXXX

Yeen only told them that the natural world really didn't like the black stone. The jungle was visibly receding away from the abandoned city, the very trees looking like they wanted to pull up their roots and run away.

Asshai…was much more blatant.

"What in the world…?" Tyrion gawked. Willas and Oberyn were no better.

"Well, shit." Harry sighed, staring down at the writhing mass of shadows completely obscuring the creepy port town. It looked as if the darkness had spilled forth from Stygai and completely consumed the surrounding area. Just looking at it made his brain hurt.

"What devilry is this?" Willas asked fearfully.

"Back home we would call this a FUBAR situation."

"What does that mean?" Tyrion asked curiously, mostly to distract himself from the horror below.

"Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition."

"That seems…appropriate."

"Something is happening." Oberyn cautioned, stubbornly looking down.

Harry followed his gaze and saw that the shadows looked agitated…just before he felt himself being regarded by something. Or maybe many somethings.

"Crap!" He yelped in rare panic, already gathering power for the first spell that came to mind when faced with living darkness.

Just in time, too, as a tendril of darkness started reaching out towards them. Harry blasted it with a beam of concentrated light, cringing at the angry spiritual screech that only he could hear.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" He asked rhetorically, already driving the Nimbus back to the west at full speed.

"Indeed, this adventure has gone on long enough." Oberyn agreed shakily, feeling a dire need to go talk to his brother, hold his children and cuddle Ellaria for a while.

The other two said nothing, merely nodded furiously.