CH 22: But what about second apocalypse?

2nd day of the 6th moon. 292 AC. Outskirts of Asshai.

"This is not what I signed up for." Adrastia hissed, casting a wary glance at the writhing darkness some two kilometers away. "Why did you not ask Luna to accompany you on this fool quest?"

"Because she'd never agree to do what I'd need her to do." Harry replied, unloading the bound, gagged and whimpering men and women on the ground. Top slavers from Astapor, Yunkai and Mereen. Their disappearance would only serve to accelerate the social and economic collapse of Slaver's Bay.

Such a tragedy.

"I didn't agree to do this!"

"That's not the kind of relationship we have." Harry's tone remained even as he set up the rest of the equipment. Several rope reels, flasks full of Elixir of Life, liquid magic and Silver Fire and most strangely, a large cannon.

The sight of these things increased the intensity of the whimpers from the captives.

"At least tell me that we are not in any danger being so close to that." Adrastia begged, gesturing towards Asshai.

"Begin test one, catapult series; adult human male, non-magical, no additions." Harry pointedly did not answer the question.

The chosen man was loaded onto the cannon despite his terrified wiggling. Once positioned, he was unceremoniously fired towards the living darkness, the overpowered magical cannon – more of a railgun, really, seeing as it used no gunpowder – easily providing sufficient force to propel him the two kilometer distance.

Harry had situated them on a small-ish hill so that they had an excellent view of the 'testing area' and began scribbling into his notebook as soon as it was over.

"Shadow did not reach out towards the subject. Begin test two, catapult series; adult human female, non-magical, no additions….note: remaining test subjects have soiled themselves. Most likely irrelevant."

Adrastia, standing carefully upwind of the 'test subjects', couldn't quite keep from smiling in amusement. Harry's clinical demeanor was a special kind of cruelty.

"Shadow did not reach out towards the subject. Hypothesis: gender does not affect outcome. Begin test three; adult human male, rope tied around waist so that subject may be reeled out of the Shadow."

…

"…subject's body disintegrates when exposed to sunlight."

XXXXX

Several experiments later…

"…Shadow does not react to anything flying towards it." Harry frowned. He had been sure that it would react to the ones that had Elixir of Life or liquid magic strapped to them at least.

The only thing it had reacted to so far was the Silver Fire, and that had been to recoil away for a time before surging over it and smothering it. The only thing that proved was that the darkness was conceptually stronger than the alchemical fire. Worrisome, but not unexpected.

He turned to his remaining captives with a reassuring smile. "Congratulations, the rest of you have a chance of survival."

They looked at him with such terrified hope that he almost felt bad for them. Almost.

"Here's the deal. I am going to wrap a rope around your waists and you are going to walk over there until I give it a tug, at which point you will stop and stay still until I give it another tug. If you survive to the second tug, then you will be free to go. Do we have an accord?"

The captured slavers were obviously terrified out of their minds about walking towards the evil-looking mass of shadows, but seeing as the alternative was to be sent there anyway, they didn't exactly have a lot of choice.

"Excellent!" Harry smiled at their nods. "Who wants to go first?"

XXXXX

"….Shadow did not reach out to grab subject carrying Silver Fire. Shadow unable to detect non-magical humans or in possession of at least rudimentary consciousness capable of distinguishing threats? Inconclusive."

The test subject was sobbing into her gag from sheer relief at still being alive.

"Sit tight, I'll let you go once the rest of the tests are finished." Harry ordered, neglecting to mention that he wouldn't be giving her a ride back to Slaver's Bay. He only promised to set the survivors free and nothing more. "Begin test two, uncompelled ground approach series; Adult human male, non-magical, carrying Elixir of Life.

"What do you think will happen to this one?" Adrastia asked once the test subject was out of hearing range.

"I am very much hoping that the answer is 'nothing'." Harry frowned. "Unfortunately, I don't think I'm that lucky."

It took a good fifteen minutes for the man to reach the designated spot, at which point he gave the rope a tug and waited.

Sure enough, it was less than a minute later that a mass of shadows reached out like a grasping limb and snatched up the test subject.

"Shadow reached out to grab subject carrying Elixir of Life. Did it sense Elixir of Life or lack of Silver Fire? Results still inconclusive. Begin test three…"

XXXXX

It took some persuading to get the other test subjects in the uncompelled ground approach series to cooperate. Their terror was making them irrational and getting it through to them that their chances of survival were still higher if they just did as he asked was difficult.

Not that it mattered in the end.

"…Uncompelled ground approach series complete. All subjects except the one carrying Silver Fire lost. Conclusion: Shadow in possession of some form of consciousness. Tester note: fuck."

"Harry, I really, really do not want to have my magic linked to any of them when that thing eats them." Adrastia begged, genuinely terrified. She might not be the most academically inclined witch, but she did have an acute sense of self-preservation and it was going crazy right now. "I'll do anything. I'll feed the poor, run an orphanage, have your babies, swear off emotionally destroying men forever, dress like a maid and bring you breakfast in bed for one hundred years, wash your feet with my tongue, sleep on the floor and eat out of a dog bowl, just don't make me maintain an Imperius on them because you want to see what happens!"

Harry sucked on his teeth for a few seconds before exhaling in frustration, conceding that the chances of something going sideways were indeed dangerously high given what they had already observed. His original risk assessment had been woefully inadequate. It was annoying to not complete the experiment, but he was not willing to sacrifice Adrastia to get it. Their complicated relationship aside, she was more valuable a resource than one additional data point.

"Fine, you don't have to do it."

Adrastia slumped in relief and took a deep breath. Then she visibly pulled a mantle of dignity around her shoulders and straightened her spine.

"Thank you." She said regally, clearly intending to act as if her earlier groveling had never happened.

Harry shook his head with an amused grin. Same old Adrastia.

XXXXX

A short while later. Dol Guldur.

"Sarella!"

The half-Dornish girl jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the book she had just taken from the shelf in surprise.

"Arianne!?" She hissed back, looking around fearfully for the dreaded guardian of the library." Keep your voice down!"

Arianne did not seem fazed by the rebuke and continued marching towards her with all the presence that a petite pregnant woman was capable of mustering.

"He didn't come see me." She stated petulantly.

"Who?"

"Harry! I was waiting for him, but he went directly to his workshop without even telling anyone that he was back. He promised he would come see me as soon as he returned!"

"He must have discovered something troubling." Sarella replied reasonably, knowing what the wizard had been investigating. She also knew that the supposed promise had been more of a non-committal hum.

"Go find out what it is." Arianne ordered. "And tell Harry to come see me as soon as possible."

Sarella held back an aggravated sigh. She really didn't want to indulge her cousin's 'hormonal attention whoring', as Harry would mercilessly call it, but Arianne was still a princess and she was still a Sand. Even if they weren't in the Seven Kingdoms at the moment, she couldn't just tell her to take a hike.

"Very well."

This wouldn't even be a problem if Harry would just let Arianne into his workshop, but he wouldn't even consider it. Not that Sarella didn't understand why. Her cousin wanted access to it just for the sake of having it.

The fact that Sarella did have access to his workshop had been the cause of no small number of accusations and jealous tantrums. Arianne could be a bit spoiled at the best of times and pregnancy had done her disposition no favors.

At least the library was fairly close to Harry's workshop, so it didn't take long to reach. Inside, she found about what she expected.

Harry was scowling at a section of his massive, wall-spanning whiteboard, looking completely distracted.

Sarella waited patiently for him to acknowledge her, knowing that he hated being interrupted when he was thinking. In the meanwhile, she busied herself by looking at the numerous scribbles on the whiteboard.

Most of it was taken up by his investigation into the mysterious black stone, divided into sections based on geographical region. He was running multiple experiments concurrently, so there was plenty to see.

The Iron Islands appeared to be the least active, the notes only saying that Rodrik Greyjoy may be exhibiting signs of mental pollution, but it was too soon to tell for certain. Further observation required

The Isle of Toads was more active, the inhabitants showing continued mutation. The people he had abducted and stranded or imprisoned there – those who had survived at least – were rapidly descending into insanity and beginning to mutate as well.

Yeen showed little reaction, aside from the jungle receding away from the abandoned city.

Asshai, and the Shadow Lands as a whole, were still consumed by unnatural predatory darkness. That was the part that had Harry the most concerned, Sarella knew.

"What do you make of it?" He asked suddenly, almost making her jump in surprise.

She was grateful to her nut-brown skin tone for concealing her blush when he pinned her with that intense emerald stare. Harry was an extremely attractive man, something that had started feeling more and more relevant ever since her flowering a few moons ago. To her mortification, he had noticed it immediately and explained, in excruciating detail, how her body's sexual maturation was changing her thought process.

In the wake of that – after she no longer felt like dying of embarrassment – Sarella had decided to plan out her life carefully instead of letting her hormones make decisions for her. There was still so much she wanted to do and learn, and for that to happen she couldn't be bogged down taking care of a gaggle of children.

Plus, there was far too much drama in Harry's harem for her tastes. The thought of having to put up with Arianne and Tyene's antics on a constant basis was an excellent deterrent. Fantasies and nimble fingers would serve well enough for now.

Thank the gods that Harry wasn't trying to actively seduce her – either because she was too young for his tastes or because he wanted to maintain a strict master-apprentice relationship – because Sarella was sure that her legs would part even faster than Arianne's if he showed even a hint of interest.

And if at some point in the future she decided that she wanted to have a few children, she was sure that Harry would oblige her. He was immortal and would still be there, and she couldn't imagine wanting anyone else to father them.

Sarella forced her thoughts away from how comfortable her mentor's big, muscular arms looked and onto the question he had asked, with some difficulty.

"It appears to be reacting to the people around it." She ventured.

"Yes, like a dark mirror, reflecting and magnifying their blackest dreams." Harry nodded. "There also seems to be a psychic component to it that affects anyone in the vicinity."

"That's…bad."

"Extremely, especially if it spreads. And I was so hoping to not experience any more apocalypses."

"You truly fear that this may threaten the whole world?" Sarella asked, disturbed.

Harry nodded, gesturing to the section he had been scowling over when she'd entered. "I'm already making a doomsday device."

Sarella took a closer look at it. It was a rough sketch of some kind of spherical contraption, with the rest of the whiteboard being taken up by scribbles and arithmantic equations, some of which appeared to squirm and shift in the corners of her vision. "What does it do?"

"At the moment? Nothing. What I'm hoping it can do is obliterate the whole of the Shadow Lands with a blast of searing Light."

Sarella felt herself go pale. The Shadow Lands were larger than any of the Seven Kingdoms save the North. To go so far….

"The alchemy to make it work without killing myself and everyone around me is more than a bit tricky, though." He continued, frowning to himself. "The sun certainly puts out enough energy, but collecting and containing until it's ready to be used is going to be a bitch and a half."

She desperately wanted to ask if that was necessary, but held her tongue. Harry wasn't prone to doing unnecessary things.

In her worry and distraction, Sarella completely forgot about the reason she had originally come to the workshop.

XXXXX

'We need to talk.'

The words dreaded by men since the dawn of time, heralding hours of pointless arguing over usually trivial emotional issues that women tangled into knots because….well, just because.

Harry was far too old to be dealing with this shit.

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you." He said mildly. "I could swear that you just admitted to ordering around my cute little apprentice – which I specifically told you to stop doing – because you were upset that I didn't consider greeting you when I came back more important than a potentially world-ending disaster."

He'd learned a long time ago that being defensive when women got like this was a losing game. This wasn't about the thing it was supposedly about, this was about attention.

Arianne balked, confidence in the rightness of her outrage visibly wilting at his pointed summation. No doubt the 'issue' had felt critically important at the time. Much like puberty, pregnancy hormones had hit her like a freight train and had her swinging between moods wildly.

"Yes." She mumbled, shrinking in on herself and instinctively trying to make herself smaller. A hilarious effort, since the top of her head barely reached his pectorals as it was. She also cradled her swollen belly protectively, as if he would actually hurt their baby.

"You've been a bad girl, Arianne." Harry purred lowly, reaching out tangle his fingers in her hair. "And bad girls need to be punished."

Her mood immediately swung into happiness and she turned sparkling dark eyes on him. As expected, she had just been after some attention and probably hadn't even known it herself.

"Of course." She murmured coyly, clearly trying to keep from smiling so that her demure act wouldn't be ruined. "Such is your right as my husband."

Right, that. Arianne had gotten it into her head some time ago that, as a princess, she deserved to be a wife rather than a concubine or whatever she was, neatly ignoring that there were two senior women alongside her in the harem that had been of higher social rank than her once upon a time. Harry and Luna indulged her little delusion, not seeing any particular need to slap the spoiled girl back into place when the issue would resolve itself in a few decades anyway. Fortunately, both Rhaella and Elia valued peace and quiet too much to express more than amused exasperation at Arianne's antics.

Exhausting work, managing a harem.

XXXXX

7th day of the 6th moon, 292 AC. Dol Guldur.

Adrastia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, applying her mastery of Occlumency to control her emotions. It was something that she suspected would become a daily ritual until Harry's amusement faded.

She hadn't expected him to actually take her up on any of the things she had been offering the other day, but apparently he'd gotten 'ideas'. Still, it was better than getting killed by some gigantic shadowy abomination from the beyond.

Not to mention that she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop in regards to the debacle that had gotten two of his grandsons killed. The fact that it had been six months since his return and no punishment had come for her negligence meant nothing. Harry was old and could wait for years, even decades before he acted. If a century passed with no retribution, then she would tentatively start assuming that maybe he had decided to forgive her.

Fortunately, the upper parts of the tower were reserved for Harry and his family, so at the very least nobody saw her as she approached the master bedroom. Small mercies.

Slipping quietly into the room, Adrastia gazed on the humongous bed and allowed herself a rare genuine expression.

Her master and his women were piled up on the bed, the three pregnant ones being cradled protectively so that their gravid bellies weren't in danger of being poked by anything.

What a revolting scene.

Adrastia understood the pull of instinct better than anyone, knew intimately how powerful it was and how much influence it had over people, had used it to ruin so many. She knew that the sight of young babies and pregnant women should have elicited pangs of envy or longing.

But it didn't, not for her. She had been born wrong, defective, twisted. She still considered carrying and giving birth to her son to be the worst experience of her life and vaguely regretted not having him killed like she'd done to the boy's father. The folly of youth, she supposed.

That being said, what Harry was making her do right now certainly ranked among the most humiliating experiences of her life.

Adrastia took another deep breath and carefully clambered onto the bed, then started butting her head against Harry's shoulder.

"Wake up, nya!" She mewled, cat tail and ears twitching.

The cruel bastard had turned her into a catgirl, attaching a tail to her tailbone and a pair of big black cat ears to her head. The fact that he had created her current body allowed him incredible control over it, so it was child's play to connect the nerves to the new appendages.

Tearing them off wouldn't damage her in the slightest, but it would hurt like hell because he had made them extremely sensitive.

Harry stirred, unwrapping his arms from around Tyene and shooting her an amused look. Then he reached over to give her new ears a scratching.

"Good kitty."

"Nya!" Adrastia hated how good it felt and how her tail started whipping about madly in response. She hated even more that she had to stay in character and couldn't snark at him.

The commotion woke up the others and she watched their eyes go wide with a feeling of deep dread.

"Adrastia!" Luna squealed in happiness. "You make such a cute neko!"

Within seconds, she was being ganged up on by five women, all of them cooing and scratching and petting, leaving her a soaking hormonal mess because of course Harry had made the tail and ears erogenous zones.

"Nya!" Adrastia yowled under the relentless assault, knowing that any other sound would mean disobeying his orders and she did not want to know what he would come up with to punish her for it.

She just hoped he would get bored of this little amusement soon.

XXXXX

19th day of the 8th moon, 292 AC. Dorne, Water Gardens.

Luna loved the Water Gardens. Hot springs were nice, but there was no beating an outdoor pool with the sun shining above and a salty breeze blowing in from the ocean. This private retreat of House Martell was exactly that.

Well, they called it private, but it really wasn't, as the place frequently hosted children from both lords and smallfolk.

That just made Luna like it more.

"Do a dragon!" Rhaenys shouted excitedly, being much more comfortable making requests than the others.

Luna smiled and obliged, using magic to form a dragon made of water and animate it to chase the shrieking children around, spewing out jets of water instead of fire.

That kind of thing spread rumors of her being a Rhoynar sorceress, no matter how much she denied it, but it wasn't like it mattered. She just liked to play with the children.

And speaking of children….

"Go play on your own for a while, I have to go check on my lovers." She shooed them off, much to their disappointment.

That handled, the seven-foot woman skipped over to the section of the pool where said lovers were lounging.

Rhaella looked like she was dozing. Arianne and Tyenne were watching the children play with small smiles on their faces while caressing their swollen bellies. And Elia…..

Elia was staring into space while biting her lip and clutching her own, smaller, baby bump.

Luna sighed and made a B-line for the obviously fretting woman.

"Hey, what's wrong." She asked, quickly maneuvering the much smaller woman into her lap.

"It is nothing." Elia lied. "I am just….worried."

"Aegon will be fine." Arianne chimed in with the tone of someone who had said this many times before. "Harry will not let any harm come to him."

"I know, but a mother still worries. You will be the same once your children are born."

"I will not!" Arianne insisted.

Luna didn't believe her for a moment. Arianne was the whole reason that they were lounging around the Water Gardens to begin with. The Dornish princess had become irrationally convinced that her children needed to be born in Dorne and essentially nagged Harry about it until he sent the whole lot of them on vacation here.

Granted, it was a very nice vacation and it dovetailed nicely with Harry's desire to remove the overabundance of female influence from Aegon's life for a while, but it didn't change the fact that Arianne had not exactly been the pinnacle of logic during her pregnancy.

Judging by the wry smiles on Rhaella and Elia's faces, they weren't buying it either.

"What do you think they are doing?" Tyene asked curiously.

"Male bonding." Luna replied sagely.

"What is male bonding?" Arianne followed up.

Luna paused, frowning for a moment before answering. "If Aegon was a bit older I would say that they were probably doing the two F's, but since he's only eleven I'm not actually sure."

"Two F's?"

"Fighting and fucking."

XXXXX

Same time. Westerlands, mountains east of Lannisport.

"You see, Aegon, women actually have no idea what men do together when they aren't around." Harry lectured. "Just like we don't have much of an idea of what they do together when there are no men around. This is as it should be. Poking your nose too deeply into the doings of the opposite gender is the path to ruin and misery, usually a man's misery because most women will be more than happy to dump their emotions on you if you let them."

"I understand." Aegon panted, sweat streaming down his face. "But why are we climbing a mountain in the Westerlands? You said you would teach me what I need to be king."

"I am teaching you to be king, you can't be a king without first being a man."

"That still does not explain the mountain."

"Strength is bred in adversity. The struggles of the body will hone your spirit."

"Climbing mountains will make me a better man?" The young Aegon had some trouble wrapping his head around that one.

Harry chuckled in amusement. "Think of the mountain as a metaphor. It is large and you are small. Conquering it will always be difficult, no matter how many times you scale it. Your grandfather thought that being king would be easy, that all the mountains in his path were just pebbles to be kicked aside. The childish thinking of a vain boy that was indulged too often. People say that Jaeherys II was a good king, for the brief time he reigned, but I always thought him to be rather stupid and short-sighted."

Aegon ducked his head in shame.

"Hey, none of that now." Harry was quick to snap. "The sins of your ancestors aren't yours, don't feel ashamed of what other people did."

"But I am supposed to carry on their legacy." The boy argued weakly.

"Not all of it. Pick out the good parts and use the rest as a reminder of what not to be. If we all just repeated what our parents did then nothing worthwhile would ever get done."

Aegon gave a slow nod as he processed that and then looked at him with all the resolve that an eleven-year-old can muster. "I will be better than them, and better than my father. I will bring respect back to the Targaryen name."

"I like the enthusiasm." Harry smirked and nodded in approval. "Now look around and take in the view of the first mountain you've climbed."

Aegon blinked and did just that, realizing that there was indeed nowhere else to go except back. And the view really was something else as well. The clouds looked so close and the ground below so distant. Lannisport was too far away to see, but there were a few villages close enough to be visible.

"It's amazing…." He said softly.

"Staying cooped up in a castle, knowing the lands you rule only from maps, can give you the impression that your kingdom is a lot smaller than it actually is. Keeping things in perspective is important." Harry went back to a lecturing tone. "Now it's time for another lesson – making yourself heard."

Aegon looked puzzled. "But there is no one here to hear us."

"Your grasp of the obvious continues to improve. Keep it up and you may soon attain the coveted rank of Captain Obvious."

Aegon flushed in embarrassment and looked away.

"Don't let a little sarcasm unsettle you, boy. When you're king, you'll be praying for someone to sass you just to get a change from the bootlickers. But getting back to the point – there is indeed nobody around to hear us, which is perfect. I want you to scream at the top of your lungs."

"What?" Aegon blurted out in shock.

"You heard me. Scream, roar at the skies so that your voice echoes from mountain to mountain!"

"B-but, why?"

"There's no time to explain! SCREAM!"

Aegon jumped a little and turned to the west. "Aaaaah?"

"What the hell was that? Are we in a library? Are you trying to not wake someone up? LOUDER!"

"AAAAaah!"

"LOUDER!"

"AAAAAAAH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" Harry joined in.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Thunderclouds gathered above them, flashing with lightning. "AAAAAAAAAH!"

"AAAAAAAH!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" A peal of thunder accompanied the bellow.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" And another for Aegon's attempt.

The shouts echoed off into the distance and the thunderclouds disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, leaving only silence.

Aegon panted for breath and looked up at him in confusion, although there was still a hint of excitement in his eyes. "Why did you make me do that?"

"How are you going to inspire anyone if you're too shy to scream randomly when there's nobody around to hear you? A king must shine boldly, so that all may see him when the darkness gathers." Harry explained.

"I see!" Aegon's face lit up with understanding. "The people must see me as confident if they are to look up to me."

"Exactly. A true king is the exemplar of his people. When times are hard, he must be unbreakable. When times grim, he must be a beacon of hope. When someone insults him or his people he must stay calm and in control. And when it is time to take revenge against a transgressor, his anger must be legendary. A true king is not a man, he is a symbol that carries the spirit of his people."

"Mother and Grandmother did not speak of this." Aegon said pensively a few minutes of thought later. "They spoke of responsibility and power, but not of this."

"Not surprising, they don't know anything about what it means to be king." Harry shrugged.

"Because they are women?" The boy asked curiously.

"Well, no. Not necessarily. Women can be capable of ruling." Harry admitted. "That being said, a queen should never rule unless there is no other choice."

"Why not?" Aegon pressed with the same innocent curiosity.

"Now that is a loaded question. The reasons are many, going from how inconvenient pregnancy is to a ruler, the average mindset and inclinations of women as a group, down to the subtly different way they perceive and react to danger. The most important reason, however, is the different way in which men and women perceive each other. See, men find women easy to rule, but difficult to persuade. Women, on the other hand, find men difficult to rule, but easy to persuade. And a monarch must rule, not persuade."

"Women rule in Dorne." Aegon pointed out.

"Do they really?" Harry asked back archly. "Or do they use their husbands and advisors to rule by proxy? I can tell you that Arianne was specifically taught to avoid exerting power directly over her vassals. The Rhoynar were clever enough to figure out this little quirk of the human condition and make it work for them, but that does not make such a system optimal. A throne and a crown have only as much power as people afford them, and if a queen's vassal lords do not believe a woman has the strength to rule them, then that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Then I should not allow my wife any say in matters of state?"

"That's a bit of a tricky question. It would be easy to say that you should consider her counsel if she's smart and ignore her if she's stupid, but it's not that simple. Just like a king, a queen is more of a symbol than a woman. However, where a king should represent strength and pride, a queen represents what strength and pride are for. See, men won't fight for nothing and your queen should be the living avatar of their hopes for the future – an ideal, loving wife and mother to their children.

"And that's why you should never allow it to look like she might be anything else. Even if she gives you good counsel regarding some matter of state, you should take credit for it yourself and make no mention of her, because anything that puts a chink in your queen's image of a perfectly supportive wife and loving mother will in turn diminish the symbolism of the royal family."

That reminded him that he'd have to take a look at all the potential wives the Seven Kingdoms was pushing forward for the boy. He didn't deserve to be saddled with a selfish idiot of a woman like Cersei. He would let Elia negotiate for matches since that was how it was done in the Seven Kingdoms, but he would weigh in at the end and pick a girl that knew what a queen's actual job was and wouldn't try to overreach herself.

"That does not seem fair." Aegon frowned, no doubt thinking of the numerous rather intelligent women in his life.

"Politics is called a dirty business for a reason." Harry pointed out drily. "A man can be fair, a king has to be what his nation needs him to be. A man can judge people's worth as individuals, a king has to judge them in relation to his kingdom."

"I do not understand." Aegon admitted.

"Alright, let me give you an example. You are king and one day, a disgraced magister from one of the Free Cities comes before you. He gives you a tear-jerker of a story about how an unscrupulous rival brought him to ruin with deceitful means. He is offering you his services as Master of Coin, citing the wealth he had accumulated prior to his downfall as proof of his competence. The position is vacant and needs to be filled quickly. You know that his offer is genuine, that he truly is good with money and that he would serve loyally, because your Master of Whisperers had thoroughly investigated the man prior to the meeting. What do you do?"

"Lady Adrastia warned me that the post of Master of Coin is in some ways perhaps the most important on the Small Counci." Aegon said slowly, thoughtfully.

"Any position handling money is important and dangerous." Harry agreed.

"Then a man such as you describe, who would be loyal only to me, would seem to be perfect…"

"He would be perfect, if not for one tiny little detail." Harry nodded. "Your vassals and your people wouldn't know this man like you would, and certainly would not trust him. They would see a foreigner being given a powerful position and would have to call him a lord because of it. Most Westerosi see themselves as being naturally superior to the Essosi, which may be a good trait to maintain the pride of the realm but would lead them to resent the favor you showed this hypothetical magister. In exchange for a loyal and trustworthy Master of Coin, you would lose clout with everyone else. Perhaps nothing would come of it, or perhaps your vassals would decide to become intractable at some inconvenient moment in the future because of it."

"A king carries the spirit of his people…." Aegon muttered after a few minutes of pensive silence. "…so a king cannot make decisions as if he was merely one man?"

He was a smart boy, every bit as smart as his father had been. Unlike Rhaegar, however, he hadn't grown up being taught any nonsense about the 'blood of the dragon'.

Harry could definitely work with this.

XXXXX

23st day of the 8th moon, 292 AC. Highgarden

"Thank you." Harry said politely to the servant girl that brought a plate of honey cakes. Then, noticing that she bent low enough to give him a nice view down her dress, he reached out to give her butt a pinch.

She yelped and gave him a flustered glare, only to receive a smirk and a wink in return. That had her scampering off with a red face, obviously not particularly upset.

"Aren't you a little old to be harassing the servants?" Olenna asked caustically.

"The body is still young and has a young man's urges." He replied loftily.

"So I hear." The old woman grumbled, wistfully recalling her own younger years. "Three more children, is it? And one with Princess Elia? Strange, I could swear that the maesters said that she would be unable to bear any more after Aegon."

"That boy." Harry snorted, shooting an amused glare down at said boy from the balcony he and Olenna were lounging on. "I told him not to let a girl lead him around by his cock and he's already blurting things out trying to impress her."

Olenna cracked a smile, proud of her granddaughter. "Is that why you came here? To teach him about resisting a woman's wiles?"

"Nah, he's too young to properly be jerked around by a woman's wiles. We came here to visit Visenya and so that I can get a look at his prospective bride."

"And? What do you think of my Margaery so far?"

"She definitely shows a conniving bent even at her young age. Your doing, I assume?"

"Of course, a queen or a lady needs to be a little conniving."

"Meh."

"You disagree?"

"I think it's of secondary importance."

"Then what do you believe to be the most important trait for a queen to have?" Olenna wanted to know so that she could teach it to Margaery.

Harry was quiet for a while as he considered what would be most important for a queen to have, specifically for a queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Aegon doesn't fully understand yet that his crown will be a shackle, making him a prisoner to his duties for the rest of his life. Even if I am only his stepfather, I won't approve of any girl that will add to his troubles. His queen will need to be both shelter and shield for him."

"Shelter I can understand – a home and family to take refuge in at the end of the day is something that men will do anything to defend – but what do you mean by 'shield'?"

"A queen can be soft where a king must be hard, a queen can use charm where a king must use force, a queen can compromise where a king must not bend. No man ever looks good being confrontational with a woman and this can be exploited. If she is smart enough to cultivate a saintly image, Aegon will have a passive defense against criticism simply for being loved by such a woman."

"Hmm." Olenna hummed thoughtfully. She had always known that women can exert great power from the bedchamber, often without men even realizing it, but she had never thought of it in quite such terms before. Honestly, she liked the idea of her granddaughter as a saint that was beyond reproach. She liked it a lot. Not only would it be good for her, but it would also reflect splendidly on House Tyrell as a whole. "Would you be willing to discuss this with me in more detail? Margaery is still young, her education can be tailored to achieve what you desire for Aegon in a bride."

Olenna had no problem at all with doing so. Indeed, it was a tremendous boon to be told what was required while there was still time to act instead of trying to teach a woman grown how to pretend for her would-be husband. She was beginning to understand why the Starks had prospered so much after the Sorcerer set himself up beyond the Wall – the man was remarkably straightforward and easy to deal with once you figured out the trick.

"I don't have the time or the patience for it, but I can send Adrastia your way." Harry shrugged, thinking that the conniving woman had too much time to play her shadow games anyway. "Just be sure to keep any men you don't want to lose away from her. She'll eat them alive."

"Not literally, I hope?" Olenna asked drily. "I am not sure I would be comfortable hosting a cannibal."

"No, she's like you, but a thousand times worse."

"I beg your pardon?" Olenna spluttered. People had called her a lot of things over the years, but nothing quite like that.

Harry shrugged with a shit-eating grin. "You've so completely ruined your son's confidence and reputation that I'm honestly amazed you still control Highgarden. Even if he is an idiot, treating him like one isn't doing your House any favors."

"You seem to think I had a choice." She harrumphed sourly. "Subtlety is wasted on an oaf like Mace and the slightest hint of praise makes him think he's the Conqueror reborn."

"I suppose not being able to fuck him would take away most of your tools." Harry mused.

"Quite." She agreed drily. "Luthor was much more manageable."

"Have you ever wondered if he rode his horse off a cliff to get away from you?"

"Have you ever wondered if any of your women only put up with you because you are rich and powerful?" Olenna parried, only the tightness around her eyes and the sharpness of her retort betraying the fact that the barb had struck a nerve.

Harry snorted. "I don't have to wonder. Except for Luna, every single woman I've ever been with has only been interested in me because I'm powerful in some way. They certainly weren't attracted to my personality."

Even Fleur and Dora…as much as he had loved them and as long as they had been together, he didn't delude himself into thinking that they would have ever given him a second glance if he wasn't so powerful. He didn't begrudge any of them for it, knowing that Luna was the anomaly.

"And what makes Luna so special?" She asked archly.

"If you'd ever spoken to her, you wouldn't need to ask that question."

They lapsed into silence for a while, just observing the two children down in the garden. It was a better alternative to having a septa following them around as a chaperone.

Despite his earlier words, Harry wasn't really sure what to feel about the whole thing. Margaery Tyrell wasn't even ten years old and Aegon was only eleven. That seemed awfully young for there to be talk of marriage, but he also knew that it only made sense to have it all arranged as soon as possible.

And Luna told him that before his sojourn into godhood he would have scoffed and refused to have anything to do with arranged marriages, yet no matter how much soul-searching he did, that kind of mindset simply didn't feel natural. What kind of sense did it make to leave bumbling teenaged nobles to choose their own spouses? They didn't have the experience or wisdom to make an informed decision and were bound to make a huge mess of things.

Eh, whatever. Even if he was different than he was before, that didn't mean the change was bad.

"Dad!" The excited shout smashed through his brooding like a donkey kick, quickly followed by a girly missile depositing itself in his lap.

"Visenya." Harry greeted with a smile and a long-suffering sigh. "Did you ditch your hangers-on again?"

"All they do is sew and gossip." The girl huffed. "It's so warm here that we could have at least gone outside, but they don't want to do that either!"

"The last time they went outside with you, you tried to get them to swim in the river." Olenna interjected, amused more than anything.

"Hey, I warned you that southerners are boring." Harry shrugged unsympathetically.

As promised, he had given Willas the chance to woo Visenya and the Tyrell heir had managed to convince her to come to Highgarden with him for a while. Some mutual culture shock had ensued as a result.

"And the septa is so annoying!" Visenya continued complaining as if neither of them had spoken. "She keeps trying to convert me to the Seven."

Olenna hid a wince. She had specifically told the septa not to try converting the daughter of a man known as the Voice of the Old Gods, among other things. They would be having words later, words about the dangers of provoking an irresponsibly powerful sorcerer into a religious conflict. According to Willas, the man already had reason to hold a grudge against the Seven.

She might believe in the Seven herself, but there was no reason to be dumb about it.

"Do you want to come with me and Aegon?" Harry offered.

Visenya frowned thoughtfully before giving a slow nod. "Willas is nice, but I don't really fit in here. And I want to be there when my new siblings are born!"

"Then it's settled. Go pack your shit."

The girl scampered off and Olenna sighed despondently. "So much for that marriage."

Harry could only chuckle, having expected that the Reach would be too different for his daughter. "Did you really want her to be the Lady of Highgarden, though?"

"Why not?" Olenna shrugged. "Despite her behavior, she's a smart girl and Willas is a smart boy, they would have managed." She paused for a moment, a grin cracking her expression. "And watching her give everyone conniptions with her antics has admittedly been amusing. Although, I note that she wasn't raised in accordance with what you said earlier."

"Things are different back home."

"Clearly."

They lapsed into another lengthy silence, long enough that the sun began to set, causing shadows to grasp at the landscape.

The sight gave the Queen of Thorns chills, recalling what her grandson had said they'd seen far to the east.

"Do we need to do anything to prepare?" She asked quietly.

Harry quickly deduced what she was talking about and shook his head. "That's my mess to clean up. If all goes well, most people won't ever know that anything strange happened. Keep an eye on the Ironborn, though."

XXXXX

The next day. Kings Landing.

Rickard paused in surprise at the entrance to the Small Council chamber, nearly causing those behind him to bump into his back.

There was a wizard already inside the room, sitting on the king's chair. To add further insult, he was rocking back on the chair's hind legs with his boots resting on the table. Flanking him were a beautiful young girl with black hair and purple eyes on the bloom of womanhood and a younger boy with Valyrian features that could only be Prince Aegon.

It took him a moment to recall what the proper address for the man was. "Harry? What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." The wizard replied blandly, gesturing to the chairs. "Have a seat."

Rickard had to pause again to take in the absurdity of being offered hospitality in his own(temporarily) castle. Even with all the years he had spent in the south lately, he had never received so grievous an insult wrapped in politeness.

Unfortunately, the best he could do was to pretend it hadn't happened.

The rest of the Small Council had shuffled into the room by then and were staring at their…guests….in shocked surprise.

"Prince Aegon?" Jaime Lannister said softly.

"Ser Jaime." The boy acknowledged with a nod.

"Your Grace, we have long awaited your return." Jaime went down on one knee.

That spurred the others to give similar demonstrations to their future king.

"Get up, you twits." Harry snapped irritably. "The boy isn't even a king yet."

Powerful as the Sorcerer was, he had no say in the customs of the Seven Kingdoms and all seven of them waited for Prince Aegon to give permission to stand before they would do so.

Harry's exasperated sigh did take away from the solemnity, though.

"Please stand." Aegon said, sounding a little flustered but trying to hide it. "It is as Harry said; I am not yet a king. He only brought us here so that I could be introduced to my Small Council."

"Then it will be my honor to introduce them." Rickard said as they fanned out and took their seats.

"Ser Justin Massey, Master of Whisperers." The fair-haired knight gave the prince a pleasant smile to go along with the nod of his head.

After replacing the previous, rather mediocre, Master of Whisperers, Rickard had been quietly shocked by the man's ability. He was young, had no experience in spycraft nor an established network of informants.

Despite all this, Rickard had had little choice but to appoint him to the post after he proved himself to be far more capable than his predecessor. Said predecessor had since vanished, seemingly into thin air.

"Lord Jon Arryn, Master of Coin." The aging Lord Paramount of the Vale bowed his head as he was introduced.

Rickard had chosen the old man based purely on the merit of their friendship, knowing that he would need as many trustworthy allies as possible if he was going to succeed in the south.

"Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Laws."

Robert's stern younger brother, whom his goodson had sent his way with a plea to 'give the stiff fucker something to do before he drives me crazy'. The man was as hard as iron and had no tolerance for corruption of any sort. The Goldcloaks lived in fear of his surprise inspections.

"Lord Paxter Redwyne, Master of Ships."

That post could have gone to either the Reachman or Monford Velaryon , but in the end it was the Reach that needed to be appeased more than the staunch Targaryen loyalists.

"Grand Maester Marwyn."

The rather jolly maester had confessed to once being Harry's student and it was clear that his primary loyalties were not to the Citadel despite his position. That actually worked in his favor, as it made him less likely to be holding an agenda that needed to be watched for. There had been rumors for years that Pycelle was more loyal to Tywin Lannister than Aerys II.

Marwyin directly admitted that he would do nearly anything that Harry asked of him because he trusted the wizard to have good reason for such requests. None such requests had ever come, fortunately.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

The unfortunate boy, sometimes called the Kingslayer, had been more than a little lost this past decade with no king to protect. His entreaties to be allowed to come to Angmar to be by Aegon's side had been rejected, leaving him with little to do but hone his skill with a blade by hunting brigands across the Crownlands.

Although, the years had also been a boon, as they allowed him time to carefully choose new members to fill out the much depleted ranks of the Kingsguard.

"And I am Lord Rickard Stark, serving as your Hand and regent. It is an honor to finally meet you, Your Grace." Rickard concluded the introductions.

"The honor is mine, Lord Regent." Aegon said, standing as tall as he could manage and speaking clearly. "My thanks to you all for your diligent service to the realm in my absence."

Well, that was a pleasant surprise. Rickard had feared what their future king would be like after growing up in Angmar, but aside from a slight accent to his speech there was no sign that he was anything but a prince of the realm.

The girl at Harry's other side poked him in the shoulder with a pout.

"And this little she-demon is mine and Rhaella's daughter, Visenya." The wizard introduced, smirking as her pout intensified at being called a she-demon.

"Hello!" She beamed and waved, almost startling Rickard with how much she reminded him of Luna. If Harry had not specifically stated that she was Rhaella's, he would have assumed that the Witch-Queen was her mother.

"Do you mean for her to be Prince Aegon's betrothed?" Paxter asked curiously.

Rickard wasn't fooled. Ser Justin had informed him that the Tyrells were plotting to have Margaery Tyrell put forward as Aegon's future bride and Paxter had close blood ties to the House Paramount of the Reach.

"She's his aunt." Harry snorted. "There will be no incest on my watch."

Rickard frowned slightly. Did Harry consider even that kind of relation too close? Apparently so. Either way, it answered the question.

"Then why is she here?" Stannis asked, though with his typical sternness is sounded more like a demand.

With the way he was staring at Harry's boots on the table and clenching his jaw, it must be killing him to say nothing about the wizard's disrespectful behavior.

"Coincidence." Said wizard shrugged. "Aegon and I made a quick stop at Highgarden and picked her up on the way."

"Why was she in Highgarden?" Ser Jaime asked with a confused frown.

"Olenna Tyrell had proposed a marriage between her and Willas Tyrell." Rickard answered, having been informed of this particular plot of the Queen of Thorns by Ser Justin. "Harry allowed Lord Willas to attempt wooing Princess Visenya…..yet it appears to have fallen through."

"She's not a princess." Harry snorted.

"I am too a princess!" Visenya protested, crossing her arms and glaring at her father. "Everyone but you says so."

Rickard was inclined to agree with the girl on this one. Her mother was a queen and her father was a king. Even if she was given no last name and her parents hailed from different kingdoms, she was most definitely a princess.

Harry's strange aversion to titles was as baffling as ever.

"You've gone and done it now." The wizard sighed, dragging a hand across his face in exasperation.

Rickard had only a moment to feel confused before it dawned on him. He had become somewhat used to the Angmari's way of doing things, particularly as the North was already quite a bit more rough and tumble than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. It had not occurred to him that Harry might be denying his daughter's royal status to protect her from a deluge of suitors.

Jon Arryn and Paxter Redwyne already had that calculating gleam in their eyes, wondering how it would benefit their lands if they could secure a marriage with Rhaella's daughter. Rickard could admit to being interested as well, but he already had Benjen married to one of Harry's granddaughters and had good relations with Angmar besides.

"Any marriage proposals should be addressed to Adrastia." Harry stated in a dull, unenthusiastic tone. "If you receive a reply from her then you may send prospective husbands to attempt wooing my daughter."

"Daddy, are you dumping your work on poor Adrastia again?" Visenya scolded.

"There is nothing 'poor' about that conniving spider." The wizard scoffed. "Now enough about this subject. Aside from introducing Aegon to you, I also came to give you a warning."

"A warning?" Rickard questioned warily. Harry had never come to give a warning personally before. At most, it would be given through his ravens.

"Yes. Due to some….magical shenanigans…..that happened at the turning of the new year, something grievous dark has awoken in the world. Most of it is in other lands, so you shouldn't be unduly troubled by it and I'm trying to fix it before it gets out of hand anyway. Still, keep a close eye on the Ironborn.

Well, that was ominous.

XXXXX

11th day of the 9th moon, 292 AC. Land of Always Winter

If the Others had the capacity to feel confused, then they would be. This was supposed to be the final summer, the one that would last the longest before the world was swallowed by eternal cold and darkness.

But something had changed. Instead of lasting for years more, it was already waning. Even more than that, they were feeling stronger than they should be.

But confusion was not something they really experienced. If the time had come sooner, then they would move sooner, simple as that.

And the God-on-Earth would be the first to fall.

XXXXX

Omake – Edmure's woes. (because someone requested it and I thought it was funny)

Edmure took a deep breath to steel himself and entered the room.

"What is it this time, Husband?" Cersei immediately sneered. "Have I done something to displease you again?"

"You struck a servant when she refused to obey you." Edmure said quietly.

"So?"

"You know that it was on my orders that they do not obey you."

"It was just a servant!" She shrieked, equal parts exasperated and furious.

"A servant, not a slave!" He retorted firmly, recalling the lessons imparted by his father and uncle. "They serve in return for our protection, not so that they can be abused on a whim."

"You are weak, Edmure." The sneer was back. "We are their betters and can do as we wish."

Edmure pursed his lips. He had hoped that she would have learned something by now, but she was as arrogant as ever.

"Then, I suppose that as your better, I can also do as I wish with you?" He asked, already knowing what he would have to do.

Not that he hadn't known it would come to this, which is why he had brought the paddle with him, but a man can hope, can't he?

"You are not my better, you fish!" Cersei screeched. "I am a lion!"

Edmure said nothing, only marched towards her with a stony expression that was getting easier to maintain every time he had to do this.

"Stay away from me!" She yelled, taking a swing at him.

It was useless, as she was not nearly strong enough to achieve anything. Grasping her hands and manhandling her until she was bent over his knee was simple. Hiking up her dress so that her bottom was exposed was more trouble.

Cersei was, of course, screaming the whole time. Threats, insults, warnings and simply incoherent rage spewed from her lips in an endless torrent.

How had he managed to ignore all this vileness before the Sorcerer had talked to him? Had he truly been that hopeful that everything would magically fix itself when they had a child? Clearly he must have been.

The paddle came down on her pale arse with a firm smack, drawing a pained screech from Cersei and leaving behind reddened flesh. The volume and vitriol of her shouts only increased, so the paddle came down again.

This set the pattern for the next few minutes, until the pain overcame Cersei's rage and she eventually broke into tears.

"Do you regret what you did?" Edmure finally spoke once it got to that point.

Cersei remained mulishly silent, so the paddling continued.

"YES! I regret it!" She screamed through her pained sobs.

Had it been the first or second time he had done this, she would have cursed like a sailor even as she gave in, which would have earned her another few hits.

"You will apologize to the servant you struck." Edmure commanded.

As expected, that stuck in Cersei' craw and she returned to mulish silence. Withholding a sigh, he brought the paddle down again on her now nearly glowing red buttocks.

It took several more blows before Cersei's pride gave way and she agreed to apologize.

Edmure left the room then, fists clenched to keep his hands from shaking. It gave him no pleasure to discipline his wife like an especially unruly child, but he had tolerated her behavior for far too long as it was.

Once again, he cursed his father for saddling him with such a woman. Beautiful she may be, but Cersei Lannister could barely be called a lady.

He hadn't even wanted to get married!