Dragonlord (HP × ASOIAF)

Anya was honoured, incredibly honoured to have the opportunity to learn magic. It was certainly a great honour to be learning the secrets of a higher power from a Stark. She was ten namesdays senior to her teacher but age was not a factor when it comes to magical power. Her lord Harrion was living proof of that.

The things Lord Harrion could do with his magic were incredible, almost godly. Not even the old tales of the First King or Brandon the Builder could hold a candle before Lord Harrion's magic. Not to mention the fact that Lord Harrion was even willing to share his craft with her, a mountain girl orphaned at a young age. She felt incredibly honoured to receive his knowledge.

So, she was adamant to learn all that she could to be of worth to her lord.

Before meeting Lord Harrion, her only ambition was to survive at all costs in the mountains. Her gift of warging allowed her to slip into the minds of creatures and track down her prey to make ends meet. Her warging allowed her to become one of the best hunters in the mountains. Using her gift, she not only put food on the table but also kept the farmlands safe from wild boars. That was an essential service her mother had provided for her people. When she learned she inherited her mother's gift, she was more than happy to continue her mother's work.

However, being a warg can sometimes be a thankless job.

The animals in the wild often attack her people and people would blame her for the attack. She had seen this happen to her mother as well. So, life was a bit difficult in the mountains as people tend to fear her power on the dime depending on the daily happenings in the mountains.

This is why she hated the black wolf sitting rather calmly for its kind near her lord. It had given her a lot of grief among her people with its activities in the mountain passes.

"Stop glaring at Fenris and finish the runes, Anya." Lord Harrion ordered.

"Apologies, my lord." Anya hastily said, before returning to the task at hand.

Fenris let out a grunt which she took as amusement from the creature, at her plight. If only her lord had not bonded with the creature. She could have snapped its neck and been done with it had it been roaming wild as it was supposed to. Instead, she was forced to bear its presence for the sake of her lord.

Taking a deep breath she ignored the black monstrosity in favour of concentrating on the work at hand. Most of the women from the mountains were carving out runes on planks of wood. Of course, her lord had to draw the runes out for the women to copy down on the wood.

Anya was not asked to do that. She was tasked with learning the different meanings behind the runic letters. Her task was to learn and use the inscriptions so that one day she could aid her lord in matters of mystical nature. After all, whatever that was found at the secret chamber beneath Castle Black has shaken her lord. She was sworn to secrecy to never talk about what they found. She was happy to do so but she hardly knew what they found in the chamber. Any and all items they found from the chamber were safely stored in her lord's magical box.

A box the size of her palm was holding almost hundreds of artefacts, weapons and scrolls. Truly, it left her in wonder how Lord Harrion could perform such feats of magic. It was also safe to say, a magical box that can hold large quantities of objects was certainly not the height of magical skill displayed by her lord. She could think of no other magical feat that could triumph turning entire fields to thrive with edible fruits and crops.

'To think I can do such wonders in time…' Anya thought dreamily.

Surely, her lord must have seen something in her for him to pass the knowledge of his magic to her. Of course, she was not one to take the knowledge for granted. Anya wanted to give something in return for her lord and that's how she ended up sharing everything she knew about warging to Lord Harrion who scribed her experiences into letters. In their long journey from Castle Black, there was plenty of time for such activities.

Whenever they made camp, Lord Harrion would train in arms with his uncle and brother. When the light dies out and the night consumes the land, Lord Harrion would listen to her ramblings and write down everything he thought was relevant to the subject of warging. But, a mountain dweller uneducated in the letters and numbers could only be of help scantly. So, within a few days, she ran out of her admittedly small well of knowledge pertaining to warging.

This state of affairs sort of left a bad taste in her mouth. She could not live with herself if she was receiving this well of knowledge without giving something back. Of course, she had sworn herself to serve Lord Harrion but her service was frankly not of great use for a Stark. After all, there was no shortage of servants for the House of Stark. Right now, at the edge of the known world, Lord Harrion could call on many servants to his aid so her services were not unique.

Anya looked at the shiny ring of power on her ring finger. It was crafted by her lord's hand and gifted to her for quickly learning to project magical energy outside her physical boundaries. It was proof that she was exceptional, unlike the other disciples her lord took from the mountains.

And right now, sitting inside the comfort of her lord's tent, Anya felt useless. Taking a peek at her lord from the corner of her eyes she saw her lord writing down runes on a piece of parchment. Those parchments contained daily lessons for her fellow disciples. But, even in those parchments, her lord showed her preference. Only she was allowed to learn of the more complex and powerful runic scripts, like the ones they found beneath Castle Black.

Coming to a quick decision Anya rushed to finish her runes. Once she was finished, she was ready.

"My lord."

A pair of grey eyes met hers with curiosity shining in them.

"Did you finish the runes?" asked Lord Harrion.

"Yes, my lord." Anya answered as she offered the plank of wood for her lord's eyes.

"This is good work. You have an excellent affinity for runes, Anya."

Anya smiled at the compliments paid to her hard work. It was hard work and nothing else that put her above her peers. She spent every waking moment thinking and working on runes. Every lesson she was gifted by her lord, she cherished it more than anything even life. She understood the value of the knowledge she was being gifted. With magic in her grasp, she would stand apart just as Lord Harrion stands apart from his family.

There was a lot for Anya to be thankful for. She was even being taught the numbers and letters by her lord. It was a debt that she could hardly repay but she was not willing to be ungrateful and take what was offered for granted.

"Is there anything else I can aid you regarding warging, my lord?" she asked tentatively.

"Nothing comes to mind Anya. You have satisfied my curiosity sufficiently."

The answer from her lord disappointed Anya. It was as she feared. She was no longer going to be useful for Lord Harrion. But, she had one more arrow left in her quiver so to speak.

"If you'd allow me, I could help you with your way around the bow."

The way her lord's eyes sharpened gave Anya pause. It was as if her lord was peering through her mind and her very soul even. It was an uncomfortable feeling and it went away just in a blink of her eyes as though it was a figment of her imagination.

"You want to teach me archery?" asked Harrion, with his eyebrows raised.

Only then did Anya realize the folly of her stupid suggestion. Who's she to teach Lord Harrion? She's of low birth with no-name hunters for ancestors while her lord carried the Blood of the Kings of Winter. Shame flooded her mind and heart as she truly felt how small and insignificant she was before her lord.

So, she was all the more surprised when her lord spoke up.

"I'll be happy to receive instructions from you, Anya. Uncle Benjen is a good dab hand when it comes to swords but he is hopeless with a bow in hand. Having a hunter of the Northern Mountains giving me lessons ought to help me improve my way around the bow."

Anya could not believe what she heard. She was so incredibly surprised and flattered. In her joy, she hugged Lord Harrion. It took her a moment to realize her mistake but her lord was hugging her back and laughing. Even the wolf was joyful as it wagged its tail happily.

"Tell you what. I'm feeling a bit bored with working on runes. Let's go out and have some practice with the bow." said Harrion, dragging a happy Anya with him outside the tent.

Anya gathered her wits as she followed her lord. They were just a day at most from Eastwatch by the sea. She hoped they'd make it to the castle in time before the sun goes out. The magic tent provided by her lord was a godsend in their travels but the winds were getting far too violent and snow was getting thicker as the days went by. At this rate, she feared they'd be having a tough time travelling to the Skane island in search of Unicorn horns.

XXXXXXXX

"Are you still ignoring me Cat? Even on this day?"

Catelyn paid no heed to her husband and continued with her work. She was focused on her embroidery at the moment. It was her wish that she give a suitable gift to her twin boys as their namesday was just a day away. Her two sons would turn seven and she should have been happy about this fact.

But, sadly this was not the case!

She was hardly happy these days. She hadn't slept soundly ever since the King legitimized her husband's bastard. She had been plagued by nightmares without respite ever since Jon Snow became Jon Stark.

A shiver passed through her spine at that very thought. She was getting better at ignoring the boy only to get bludgeoned with this royal decree of legitimization all thanks to her unthinking son and an idiot of a husband.

At the very least, her Harrion was just a boy. No matter his prowess he was still her little boy. An innocent little boy who wants to make his half-brother happy. Harrion was just a child who feels strongly about the plight of Jon Snow. She raised him to be kind to others and she was happy that her son was willing to go that far when she could not do the same for Jon Snow. Harrion's actions proved that her little boy was the owner of a good heart, a just heart. The heart of a knight even!

But, she had failed to impart caution into her Harrion. Being good does not mean giving away weapons to your enemies. Harrion may have only intended good with his actions but he had inadvertently pushed Jon Snow one step closer to usurping Robb.

No matter how hard she had tried she could not teach Harrion about the canny nature of bastards. She could not warn her kind baby boy of the dangers of the sinful nature of bastards. That was her failure.

The blame was on her for Harrion's actions. However, her husband could have put a stop to all that happened if he had spoken to the King. Her husband was the dearest of friends with the King. Surely, if Eddard had bothered to ask the King to revoke the decree the King would have done so. It'd have been no great task to convince the King of the folly and good nature of a child.

Instead of doing that her husband chose to be a spectator and refused to interfere. Now, the bastard has the name of Stark in his possession. She was even beginning to doubt her husband put Harrion up to the task and that's why her baby boy was conveniently sent away from her reach.

"How many times do I have to say that I had no part in Robert's decree? It was out of my hands, Cat."

"Don't you dare patronize me, Ned. You stood by doing nothing as your friend gave the keys to Winterfell's succession to your bastard. Have you forgotten the Blackfyre rebellions? Haven't I begged you time and time again to send the boy away to somewhere else? But did you listen? No!" Catelyn snapped at her husband as she have never done before.

"But Cat…" Eddard tried to calm his wife down by touching her shoulder.

"Don't…" Catelyn slapped away her husband's hand. "Today was Harrion's and Robb's nameday. Because of you, I don't have my baby boy with me. You send him off to that savage land without a care in the world. Because of you, Robb is all alone without his twin."

"Cat, be reasonable. How was I to know Harrion had such far-reaching demands? The lad lied to me about his intentions." Eddard said, exasperated with his wife's proclivity to put all the blame on his shoulders.

"Oh stop trying to fool me, Ned. You are relieved to have Jon Snow legitimized. I have known you long enough to understand that. I will have my baby boy safely back before we will have any meaningful conversation. Until then, it'll save the both of us some grief if we were not to speak." said Catelyn.

For a moment there was silence until she heard her husband leave from her chambers. Letting out a sigh of relief she focused on the task at hand. She hoped to make a good shirt for her boy once he returned from his voyage to Skagos. She prayed to the gods Old and New to keep her son safe and for a speedy return.

For, in the end, that was all she could do. Hope, pray and wait.

XXXXXXX

Harry breathed in the salty scent of the air. The rhythm of the waves crashing down on the shores was something he sorely missed. It was his first time near a sea in this world. It was certainly an experience he appreciated.

Unfortunately, he doubted the sea was happy to allow him safe passage to Skagos.

Harry grimaced as another massive wave crashed into the shores showering sand and water everywhere. It was as if someone had unleashed all the storms into the seas. In the distance, he could make out the clouds slowly going on a spin with arcs of lightning jutting out throughout the sky.

"We are not going anywhere, are we?" Harry asked out loud.

"It'd seem that way. I dearly hope the ships are intact in this godforsaken storm. If they are damaged, we might seriously need to find new ships or wait for repairs." said Benjen.

"Hmm…" Harry hummed noncommittally while exchanging a look with Anya who stood a few feet behind him.

'It'd seem I would have to put more hours on my little project if the journey is to continue.' Harry thought before turning his sights back on the violent seas and the storm brewing in the distance. 'That's one nice sight. A good nameday present as any, I suppose.'