Don't Panic Chapter 20: Loose Ends

Chapter Synopsis:

Our favourite trio tie up their loose ends in Winterfell and get back on their horses to continue their exploration of Westeros.

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Last Time: ...“Here, I think this would look great on the walls of Winterfell” Harry had said with a satisfied nod “and it might give them all something to think about.”

Leaning over the book, Dobby smiled at the grand scene laid out on the pages. It was an epic depiction of the Northern army in pitched battle against the Night King and his horde of undead, with the army spiling down from their position on a hill in the background housing a weirwood tree larger than any Dobby had yet seen. Giants and Children of the Forrest were mixed in to the armies on both sides.

“This is perfect Harry!” Dobby exclaimed, “This’ll be by far the grandest painting we’ve seen anywhere in the North.”

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Chapter 20: Loose Ends

After nearly two full moons in Winterfell, and eventful ones at that, Harry felt the time had come to continue their exploration of Westeros.

Harry had gained much new knowledge from his time in the library and crypts of Winterfell, both on the lands they found themselves in, and the tantalising clues to the new forms of magic that surrounded them.

Harry had also gained a small number of extra books for his library … Ok, maybe Harry gained quite a lot of extra books for his library.

He’d taken to spending his evenings in the Winterfell library under strong invisibility enchantments. Copying all the books he could find, and storing them in his expanded pouch to sort later.

In fact, he was currently working on copying and packing away the last books he could find scattered around the castle, having finished with the main library last night.

Despite the ribbing from Sirius and Dobby about his ‘book stealing’ thing, Harry didn’t feel at all bad about his nighttime activities.

After all, he was putting a lot of effort into repairing some of the older, crumbling texts in the library while he was at it. Texts that undoubtedly held important knowledge for Winterfell that would otherwise have disappeared to time and decay.

Though, of course, he didn’t leave them in perfect condition, as that would be too noticeable. He left them stable enough to last, but looking well worn on the shelf.

Thankfully, through much repetition, he had become quite skilled at the charms required to repair and copy the texts. So he could now do entire shelves at a time, if he was willing to expend the required energy.

The shelf he was currently working on had some very interesting books, and some incredibly valuable maps of the North.

A quick glance at the maps had shown detailed notes on the Northern vassals, along with troop numbers and key resources as of the latest harvest season. Harry wasn’t sure when he might need this information, but Harry had copied the maps anyway.

Of course, Harry shouldn’t be surprised to find such valuable and sensitive information here, since he was currently perusing the personal library hidden off to the side of Lord Stark’s solar.

The small room was actually fairly well hidden behind a false panel in the wall. However, Harry had managed to find the room using a neat little trick Sirius mentioned in one of his many stories of the Marauders.

All Harry had to do was stand in the center of the Lord’s Solar, and cast a variant of the sonorous charm, which would cause any sound in the room to be amplified and directed back into the room itself, while preventing any sound from exiting to the rest of the castle. He then cast an undirected variant of the Alohamora charm throughout the room. It did require a fair bit of extra power behind the charm.

The door to the solar was already open, so the one small click he managed to hear from behind the false panel in the wall was all the direction he needed to find the hidden library.

“All in the service of preserving knowledge of course.” Harry hummed to himself as he carefully copied another shelf. “Certainly nothing wrong with that.”

After all, it was essentially family knowledge he was ‘borrowing’. The Starks were the closest he had to relatives in this world, outside of Sirius. So he was sure they wouldn’t mind him borrowing some books. Not that he would tell them of course.

 
Harry was, in fact, very pleased to find a small volume with the Peverell crest tucked away on a shelf dedicated to family history. It didn’t look anywhere near as interesting as the books written by Iolanthe Peverell that he had found in the crypts. More of a dry historic record of the Peverell influence on the early Starks, clearly written by some ancient Maester.

Harry was taking a break, flicking through the pages of this Peverell tome when he heard footsteps and low voices enter the solar. Thankfully, Harry had the foresight to leave the false panel closed, and was working under invisibility, so he was unlikely to be found.

Curious as to what could have roused Lord Stark to his solar at such a late hour, Harry quietly pressed his ear to the wooden panel. He could just about make out the muffled voices on the other side.

Stepping back he cast a quick listening spell instead. This was something he’d learned from the Weasley twins, and was perfect for any situation where you wanted to listen through doors but not make any sound in return. The twins had developed the spell after they’d been caught using their infamous extendable ears one too many times. At times like this, he really loved having magic.

“… came directly here to give you an update, my Lord.”

Harry was somewhat surprised to hear the voice of Ser Cassel alongside Lord Stark.

Ser Cassel had been missing from the castle for over a sennight now. Having been sent off to capture the assassin sworn sword of Lord Edwyle’s son, Lord Rickard Stark. Harry was keen to hear how he had fared with his task.

“… managed to make it to the Rills in record time, though it was a hard ride. We lost more horses on the way than a Peverell merchant.” Ser Cassel said with a small snort at the end.

Harry thought that was a fairly cryptic statement. As far as he was aware, he was the only Peverell merchant around and he’s never lost a single horse. In fact, he now owned quite a few of them. They should be happily grazing away on the elven farms in the Thenn village.

Harry figured it must just be some sort of obscure Northern turn-of-phrase he hadn’t heard before. What the ancient Peverells must have done to gain such a specific reputation, he couldn’t fathom. He put it out of his mind, more interested in hearing whether Ser Cassel succeeded in his mission.

“… didn’t want to give any warning to the spy that we were there for him. So we entered the tavern without any sigils and paid a barmaid to lure him out with hints of ‘a good time’.”

Harry was sure he heard a long-suffering sigh from Lord Stark, and a muttered “youths these days”.

Ser Cassel grunted, clearly in agreement, and continued. “With the spy’s attention entirely on the barmaid he was following, it was easy enough for one of my men to knock him out from behind with an empty tankard and cart him out the back door.”

“Not something that would likely raise too many eyebrows in an establishment like that.” Lord Stark sighed again “I really have to get on Rickard’s case about appropriate establishments for the Heir of the North.”

“Did you at least manage to question him?” Lord Stark asked “If we could find out who sent these spies and assassins, I would be happy to return the kindness.”

“Unfortunately not, Lord Stark” Ser Cassel sounded apprehensive all of a sudden. “He came-to shortly after being dragged from the tavern and managed to shake off the guards holding him.”

“He escaped?!” Lord Stark shouted in alarm.

“Ah, not as such my lord. He clearly assumed that his cover was blown, so he shouted something nonsensical that sounded like ‘Tresy Jas’ and then fell on his own sword.”

“He took his own life then?” Lord Stark observed grimly, “he must have been very dedicated to his cause.”

At this Ser Cassel coughed a little, “...Ah... not as such my lord.” You could almost hear the twitch in Ser Cassel’s eyebrow, “it seems he was making a last ditch attempt at Lord Rickard’s life, running at him with a dagger bared when he tripped and fell on an unfortunately placed sword that one of Rickard’s junior guards had been cleaning at the time.”

Ser Cassel coughed again, sounding bemused by the stupidly weird turn of events, his voice alone expressing both that he was disappointed with the failed interrogation, and actually little embarrassed for the fellow. “It was only later we found out it was the man’s own sword being cleaned... ... just bad luck really … very, very bad luck.”

Lord Stark choked at that admission and Harry snickered quietly. It seems the Black talisman had done its work. He would have to retrieve the talisman later tonight.

“Lord Rickard was of course initially quite upset that his sworn sword had been ‘kidnapped from the tavern and put to the sword’. But things calmed down once he recognised me, and I was able to tell him what happened here at Winterfell. Apparently he didn’t particularly like the guy anyway, so it was no great loss. Though he did express a desire to meet and thank ‘these Peverells’ I mentioned.”

Harry figured it was helpful that they’d unintentionally made a good impression on the next generation of Starks, though they were unlikely to be here by the time Lord Rickard came back from his travels. Maybe they’d travel back through Winterfell some time.

“To be honest, Lord Stark, I’m not sure he was a particularly skilled assassin, despite his skill with a sword. For a spy to go around following random barmaids, leaving their guard down enough to be taken out by an empty tankard, and then accidentally fall on their own sword. Well, I just don’t think he was the brightest one in the bunch.”

“Yes well” Lord Stark’s chair scraped as he got up to leave “you did manage it rather well yourself. We should keep our eyes open anyway. I won’t tolerate ‘any’ threats to my family.”

“We’ll have to keep our ears to the ground for anything to do with this ‘Tresy Jas’ he mentioned as well. Not that I’ve ever heard of it before. Though I wonder if he wasn’t speaking the common tongue at all.” Lord Stark hummed, his voice fading out as they left the room “My High Valyrian is fairly rusty, but I seem to recall ’Trēsy’ means Son and Jaes means Faith. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me to find some order of the Faith behind this. Bloody southern barbarians.”

Harry waited until the voices and the footsteps had faded away into the distance before getting back to copying books.

He was glad to hear that everything had worked out well with Lord Rickard, and that his efforts had helped, if only a little. Not that he knew the lad, but he felt a certain kinship to the Starks, so the news was good all around.

He’d have to tell Sirius. He was sure Sirius would be happy to hear one of his family’s more obscure artifacts had been put to good, prank-worthy, use in this case.

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With the library now copied down in its entirety, and both Dobby and Sirius ready to get moving, Harry was just waiting on one more thing before they hit the road. So he was happy this morning, to finally receive the invite from Lord Stark to the official opening of the first Northern water mill.

He was a bit surprised at how quickly it’d been built. But he’d learnt from the Maester that with so many men now available for work, and their first planting already completed, there were many hands available for the construction. And to be honest, it was just a primarily wood construct, with a stone foundation. They probably had most of the materials at-hand already.

The day was particularly pleasant, with signs of winter fully receding and Lord Edwyle was waiting in the courtyard to lead the group to the site of the just-completed mill.

As the trio made their way to the Winterfell stables to fetch horses for the short journey, they were met with an unexpected insistence from Lord Edwyle that the day was too beautiful to spend on horseback, urging them instead to walk down to the stream.

Sirius found this odd, especially considering the stable boys who appeared to be guarding the horses with a protective stance. Shrugging it off, the group followed Lord Edwyle's suggestion joining the crowd of curious locals heading towards the site.

Before the ceremony began, Lord Edwyle addressed the gathered crowd. "Today, we usher in a new era with this brand new invention from our friend here.” He gestured towards Harry and gave an approving nod, “There is no question that this water driven mill, and the many like it that we intend to build across the North, will make all our lives that much easier.” this got a few cheers. Anything that made life easier would inevitably be popular with the smallfolk.

“We also celebrate the friendship that has been forged between our people and our esteemed guests," Lord Edwyle declared, gesturing again toward the trio. "Their wisdom and fresh ideas have inspired us all, and their work will leave a lasting impact on the North. We are grateful for their generosity with their valuable foreign knowledge and for the friendship they’ve offered."

Smiling at that proclamation, Harry, Sirius, and Dobby accepted the forearm grasp that Lord Edwyle offered. It being the northern equivalent of a handshake. It was good to know they had made such a solid friend in this new world, and a powerful one at that.

Though, internally, Harry was rolling his eyes at how dramatic his friend was. He seemed to enjoy giving these sorts of over the top speeches much more than Harry thought reasonable. But that might just have been his English sensibilities.

With detailed instructions left in the capable hands of Maester Garrick to continue the projects, Harry felt confident Winterfell would make good progress in their absence. He hoped that by the next time they visited, there would be roman inspired roads crossing the countryside, and mills on every river, with fertile farms growing crops in all their fields.

Maybe Harry was expecting too much of a medieval society, but he’d given them the tools to achieve it. And he knew at least some of them had their heads screwed on right. Either way, it was time for them to continue their journey.

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That evening, Harry decided to make one last visit to the crypt wardstone chamber, eager to experience the intense concentration of magic that seemed to envelop the area. It was a sensation he had come to appreciate deeply, and he knew he would miss it once they left Winterfell.

Harry had meticulously carved and prepared a small permanent portkey homing stone that he intended to plant in the crypt wardstone chamber. He levitated some soil away from the floor, clearing a space for the homing stone.

Summoning the large, rune-covered stone from his expanded pouch, he carefully levitated it into a hole next to the much larger Stark wardstone. This would also link all the minor stones Sirus had scattered throughout the area for their Map project. Harry hoped that linking them with the Winterfell wards would broaden the reach and deepen the magic of both sets of wards. Though it was hard to be certain.

Once the new stone was in place and linked-up, he levitated the loose soil back over the homing stone.  A quick compression charm had the soil looking undisturbed.

Harry took a moment to kick-start the homing effect by feeding the stone some of his own magic. Satisfied with his work, he apparated back to their room in the inn.

The sheer amount of magic in the crypt wardstone chamber meant that Harry would be able to create long-distance portkeys to that homing stone. In his old world, there were homing stones scattered all over the place, usually located in magical centres for international travel, shopping districts, and major Quidditch events.

Harry didn't have that advantage in this world, and if he wanted to leverage long-distance magical travel, he would have to plant these homing stones in areas of high magic concentration wherever he travelled. Sure he could make multiple shorter distance port-keys for the same effect, but for truly long distances, this was just so much safer.

Slowly, but surely, he planned to build himself a small magical travel network to key locations.

The homing stones also had the added benefit of focusing the magic of apparition. Such magic was still very dependent on the caster, but the homing magic at the destination was proven to allow skilled apparaters to risk traveling to said destination from much further afield, with less fear of splinching.

Harry hoped to plant enough of these stones so that he could travel between the cities of Westeros with greater ease. He also intended for it to help the elves if they ever needed to travel such distances. Using their link to Harry they could follow the homing nature of his magic embedded in these ward stones with ease.

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The Great Hall at Winterfell was a sight to behold as the grand feast celebrating the start of summer and the opening of the water wheel was well underway. The vaulted ceilings echoed with laughter and lively conversation, while the long tables groaned under the weight of the sumptuous spread. Fine linen, gleaming silverware, and a multitude of candles cast a warm, flickering light throughout the hall, illuminating the animated faces of the guests.

Harry and Sirius found themselves seated in a place of honour with the Stark family at the head of the hall. Having never experienced a medieval feast quite like this before, they were thrilled by the spectacle.

They observed the customs and traditions with fascination, taking in the colourful tapestries adorning the walls, the proud banners of the Stark sigil, and the intricate wood carvings that decorated the space. They were particularly impressed by the rich variety of dishes that had been prepared for the feast. From succulent roasted meats to steaming, hearty stews and an assortment of tempting pastries.

Throughout the evening, bard music filled the hall, with skilled musicians playing lively tunes on their lutes, flutes, and drums. Sirius was particularly happy to hear a rendition of ‘Here comes the sun’ played by the local bards, to the great joy of the crowd.

“A curious song. Certainly fitting for a feast to end winter” Lord Stark mumbled, catching sight of Sirius’ beaming smile “you wouldn’t have anything to do with this would you?”

“Perhaps a little” Sirius said with a sheepish grin “I thought some songs from our homeland might liven up the local tavern. This one seems to have caught on.”

“It certainly has,” Lord stark agreed, watching in bemusement as the chorus was taken up by the majority of the revellers in the hall with great gusto, “I think we will have to make it a tradition for harvest feasts going forwards, a new tradition of the North”.

 “I should thank you for bringing another great gift from your homeland... wherever that is?" Lord Stark offered with a raised eyebrow in Sirius’ direction.

Chuckling, Harry cut in, having had this conversation a few times already and deciding it was best to continue playing the part of the mysterious traveller “Oh it’s around, but not on any maps I’ve seen in Winterfell”

Giving up on discovering the secrets of his mysterious guests, Lord Stark decided to move onto another topic that interested him. “So where to from here?”

“We’ll head south-east to White Harbour first,” Harry said, “and from there, we’ll likely take a boat further south to explore some of the other kingdoms of Westeros”.

Yes, thought Lord Stark, a boat would probably be the best way to get around for these men who seemed anathema to horses. Though a moment later he almost choked on his own wine when it occurred to him that they had presumably arrived in Westeros on a boat, and done it so poorly they ended up landing north of the wall. Maybe some people just weren’t meant to travel.

“Ah yes,” Lord Stark agreed “I think you will enjoy White Harbor, and I wish you luck on your further journeys. Though you should know that the southerners in the other kingdoms may not be as welcoming as us Northerners.” pausing for a moment and added “They can certainly be slippery buggers at times” causing Sirus and Harry both to let out a strangled laugh.

Harry hadn’t even been to the ‘South’ yet, and already somewhat agreed with Lord Stark on this. Particularly given that messy business with the spies.

He knew that Lord Stark had sent out trusted messengers to quietly share the names of the discovered spies with his vassals. Though Harry didn’t need to know much more than that, and hadn’t bothered asking. Hopefully this would put a dent in any concerted spying or espionage activities in the North for a while to come. Giving the North a bit of respite to build their strength and implement some of the improvements Harry had helped with.

Harry wasn’t naïve enough to think it would take long for the powers in the south to root in a new spy network. But this was hopefully a serious blow in the meantime.

Lord Stark had shared with Harry his suspicions on the influence of the Targaryens, the Faith, and the Maesters on the development of the North.

It had not endeared the South to Harry at all. They would continue their exploration of Westeros, and continue to look for a place for the Thenns to settle. But he would keep his wits about him as they ventured further south. He didn’t have high hopes on what they would find.

 On the plus side though, they now had good friends and solid allies in the North.

“We’ll keep that warning in mind Edwyle, and thank you for your concern. It would be hard, after all to top the warm welcome we’ve had in the North.”

“That’s good to hear," Lord Stark said with a smile “and since you are leaving soon, I have something for you.”

Lord Edwyle pulled a sealed parchment from his jacket and handed it to Harry. “There’s not much I can give you in thanks for all your help Harry, but know that you have a friend in Winterfell if you ever need it. This is a letter of introduction to the lords of Westeros with the Seal of House Stark. This shows you have our favour, for however much that’s worth in the South.” Lord Edwyle added, being unrealistically humble about the power of the Sarks. “At the very least it will get you in the door to meet the lords of the lands you pass through. Even high lords and wardens will heed the Stark name..” Ah, there’s the dramatic statement I’ve come to expect, Harry thought.

Harry received the parchment with a smile, thanking Lord Stark, and tucking it carefully into an expanded pocket inside his jacket. This would undoubteldy be useful. He was now more than familiar with just how much this society relied on its feudal hierarchy, and a shortcut like this would save a lot of time and tension. While his magic could open most doors, sometimes it's easier to do it the old fashioned way. It could make their trip south a lot smoother.

“This is a grand gift indeed Lord Stark” Harry said with a nod “I’m sure it will smooth our travels in the South quite a bit.”

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“Aye it should”, Lord Stark agreed, before rubbing his beard contemplatively. “They’re a haughty bunch in the South, but the Stark name carries weight, even in their lands, and there are good men to find if you know where to look.”

Lord Stark was pleased his gift of a seal of introduction was received so well. This was definitely the response he'd hoped for, and he’d use it to possibly influence them towards another matter he had in mind. That being the condition of his mother’s family. He’d not kept in touch over the Winter, and he never ventured south of the Neck if he could avoid it, but he knew the Blackwoods were suffering under the bandit raids and harassment of their neighbours the Brackens.

He paused for a quick sip before continuing. “If you’re passing through the Riverlands, I’d ask that you greet my mother’s family. I’ll send a note ahead to keep an eye out for your passing. They’ll treat you well, I’m sure”.

Lord Stark then looked at Sirius for a moment of thought and added, “Who knows, there could even be a distant relation between the Blacks and the Blackwoods. While the Blackwoods are originally from the North, much of their history in the North has been lost to time, but the lands they originated from hold various legends and myths of magics. The Blackwood itself tends to be avoided by Smallfolk, who fear it’s haunted, or otherwise under the sway of ancient magics” a heavy look was shared at that hint.

“It’s whispered that the stubborn adherence of the Blackwoods to the Old Gods is due to their hidden history with magic. In my youth I’d dismissed all such rubbish. I still wouldn’t have believed the tales if you’d asked me but a few weeks ago, and my Mother certainly never believed it either … but given recent discoveries...” he looked at them both, sharing the meaning without expressing it so publicly, “It might be worth meeting the Blackwoods if only to uncover the truth of the matter” Lord Stark concluded.

He wasn’t really all that bothered by the tales of magics. He felt it was unlikely there’d be any truth behind them. He was however, interested in convincing his new friends to pass through his mother’s lands. The trio tended to bring prosperity wherever they roamed, and even if it’s just a small boon to his relatives, it’d be nice to see the Blackwoods benefit from knowing the Peverells and Black in some fashion.

“Whether you pass that way or not, please do keep in touch. I’m sure passing merchant caravans will take your letters. I’ll try to get messages back to you, though I’ll not always know where you roam.” Lord Stark added. Knowing that he’d be best served maintaining this friendship, not just because he liked the men, but also because of what their knowledge and hidden magic could bring to the North if he maintained their favour. They might also be useful eyes and ears in the South.

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Harry accepted the hint. He’d had no real thoughts on the route they’d take south, so it was no skin off his back to detour via the lands of the Blackwoods.

Thinking this was the perfect time to exchange their own gifts, Harry looked towards where Dobby had taken up position near the main doors and gave him a quick nod.

“We’ll definitely keep that in mind Lord Edwyle. Good people can be hard to find, and I get the impression they will be even harder to find in the South.” Harry said.

“Your gift of a ‘seal of introduction’ will no doubt help greatly in our journey, but it should by no means be the only gift of the night Lord Stark” he continued, getting a raised eyebrow from Lord Stark.

“We would like to give you our own gifts, to thank you for being such a gracious host while we’ve been here. And hopefully to keep the link between the Starks and the Peverells strong for generations to come.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that” Lord stark demurred. It was common to give the host a small gift, but it wasn’t necessary, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what Harry had in mind. Though something told him it wouldn’t be the usual small tokens favoured by the houses of Westeros.

“It really wasn’t too much of a hassle. Just a painting Dobby put together in his spare time. He recently took up the art and we thought this would be a good way to leave you with a small token of our appreciation.”

A loud groan from the main doors took Lord Stark’s attention, as they slowly swung open. Edwyle could do nothing but stare in shock as Dobby led about twenty of his household guards and a few other servants into the hall, carrying an enormous, framed canvas, with possibly the most spectacular painting he had ever seen.

Actually, ‘enormous’ didn’t quite match the scale of this masterpiece. Lord Stark had never even heard of a painting this large, let alone seen one before. It was immediately apparent to Edwyle that there was only one wall in Winterfell that would be large enough to hang this painting.

It seemed the wall behind the high table in the great hall was about to get a new decoration. Lord Stark sent a shrewd look to Harry, figuring the man had planned it this way. What better way to make sure no-one forgot the link between the Starks and the Peverells, as Harry had put it.

As the painting had come to rest against the back wall, Lord Stark joined the rest of the room in stunned silence, as they took in the details of the image.

“Wow” Lord Stark choked out in astonishment, “that’s more than a ‘small’ token. This is a masterpiece. Thank you Lord Peverell, and thank you Doberic for this gift.”

It was a spectacular piece showing what was obviously supposed to be the ultimate battle from the legend of the Long Night, with the first Stark and the first Peverell engaged in their legendary duel to the death against the Night King himself.

Or at least, Edwyle would have thought it was legend, but having perused some of the texts from the crypts in his spare time, he wasn’t so sure anymore. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if this scene was inspired in some way by those texts. After all, Harry knew where to find them.

Glancing back to Harry, he received a subtle nod, indicating that he was right in his assumption. He turned back to the painting to take in more of the detail, wondering if this really was what his ancestors faced in those ancient times.

Harry was enjoying the shocked expression of his friend Edwyle as the man examined Dobby’s masterpiece, clearly struggling to come up with words to describe his awe. That seemed to be a common state for most in the great hall, as they observed the striking scene in a form of painting they’d never before seen. As Harry had observed, there were no renaissance painters in Westeros.

Deciding Lord Stark needed something to get his head back into gear, Harry surreptitiously pulled a bottle of firewhiskey out of his expanded pouch under the table.

“Here Lord Stark, one more gift to celebrate and seal our friendship”, Harry said as he poured shots of firewhiskey for those at the high table and handed the bottle to Edwyle, “this is the finest drink from our homeland, but I warn you it has quite a kick.”

“Hah, a kick you say” Lord Stark said with a grin, finally turning away from the painting “I think you’ll find we’re a hardy people in the North, I’ve yet to come across a drink that can best me”

“To new friends” Lord Stark said as he toasted the trio before knocking it back in one gulp.

“New friends indeed” Harry replied, taking a sip, and struggling to hold in a laugh as he watched Lord Stark’s face get rapidly redder. Sirius didn’t bother hold back, laughing at Lord Stark as he took a sip of his own.

Harry was quite impressed that the stoic Lord managed to keep his composure, though the strain was quite clear as a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, and whisps of smoke curled out of the corner of his mouth.

“That certainly is quite a kick, Lord Stark managed to rasp out, while glaring good naturedly at Sirius and the other minor vassal lords in attendance, who’d started arriving in recent weeks to lobby Lord Stark for coin on one project or another now that summer was finally here. “A drink worthy of the North, perhaps the rest of you would like to try?” Lord Stark finished with a predatory grin on his face.

The potent drink, once opened, soon made its way around the hall, warming the guests and contributing to the ever-growing merriment.

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The following morning saw the trio sent-off on their travels by Lord Stark.

To the trained eye, Lord Stark was still looking a bit rough around the edges from last night’s revelry, though he was doing his best to maintain his sombre lordly air. Maybe there was something to Harry’s occasional comments that he was prone to being dramatic.

He had gifted the trio with three small horses before they left. So the three hapless merchants didn’t have to travel and pull their cart on foot. He thought the gift was only right after all the good the trio had brought to Winterfell. Though he thought ruefully that it was likely no one would ever lay eyes on those poor horses again

Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if any Dothraki tribe unfortunate enough to meet the Peverell merchants on their travels came out of the encounter scarred for life ... and somehow missing all their horses. Harry would truly be nightmare fuel for the horse-loving Dothraki.

Making his way back to his solar with Maester Garrick, Lord Edwyle reflected on Harry and his partners, who had brought such disruption to his life over the two moons.

His thoughts lingered on all they had achieved together: uncovering the spy network that threatened his family, recovering the Winter King's treasury, throne, and crown, and constructing the first waterwheel of Winterfell. Not to mention Harry’s diligent care for the Stark wardstone. In such a short time, these strangers had become allies and protectors.

Harry had also shared in a whispered conversation that he and Doberic had scattered a few small fertility wardstones in the farmlands surrounding Winterfell. The two men apparently buried by the stones among the roots of the many naturally occurring weirwood trees in the area.

Harry had seemed disappointed that he’d not yet figured out how to propagate a much larger fertility ward effect, or spread the effect with less effort. Edwyle wasn’t sure Harry fully understood just how much of a boon this was to the Starks. The farmlands around Winterfell were some of the largest in the North, but they’d never been particularly productive. He had the distinct feeling that their next harvest would be shockingly successful. He smiled to himself, good men like this were rare, even in the North,

He was just lucky that they’d come looking for him, and even luckier that the young man lacking any family had latched on to their extremely distant relations as a sign that the Starks could be part of his family. Though it was a relation to the founding matriarch of the Starks, a connection no others could claim, so it was a powerful familial connection in that sense..

Finally breaking the silence of their mutual reflections as they entered the solar, Lord Edwyle instructed Maester Garrick to make a record for their archives, under the Peverell and Black names. He pulled over some parchment on his desk and began writing a note for any future Starks who might read it.

In the note, he mentioned that the Black and Peverell families were to be known to all Starks as allies and friends. It should be known that their houses were owed a great debt by the Starks for actions taken in the protection of the lives of Lord Edwyle, Lady Marina, and Heir Rickard. A debt was further owed for the recovery of the Winter King's treasury, throne, and crown, and for the care given to the Stark wardstone. Edwyle chose not to disclose the locations of these last two items, in case these pages ever fell into the wrong hands.

He finished the letter stating, "Where aid is asked, it should be given; where aid is offered, take it willingly, knowing these allies have much to offer and should be held in great trust by the family for their prior deeds." A glowing review by Stark standards. Pausing with his quill over the parchment, Lord Stark thought for a moment before scribbling a small post-script toward the bottom of the record. “Never to be left alone with a horse, under any circumstances.”

He trusted Maester Garrick, but he had no way of knowing the loyalty of future Maesters. So, he sealed the letter for the eyes of the Stark Lord only and asked Maester Garrick to store it with his own notes on the Peverell allies in their archives. In this way, Lord Edwyle hoped to ensure that the legacy of their friendship and the debts owed to the Peverell and Black families would be remembered and honoured by future generations of Starks.

Finally done, he stretched and looked around the Solar, having been quite distracted when he entered. His eyes fell on something he really wasn’t expecting to see there.

He just had to shake his head in exasperation, “Those Peverells just don’t know when to quit”

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“Dobby,” Sirius caught the attention of the other two as they headed out the Winterfell gate “what happened to the portraits you made of the three of us and the Starks?”

That was actually something Harry wanted to know as well, now that Sirius had reminded him of it. The other portraits had skipped his mind last night with the spectacle of the large painting entering the hall.

“Oh” Dobby smiled, “since everyone else was under the weather this morning, Dobby hung them up himself. Dobby put the Portraits of Harry and Lord Stark in the Solar, but the rest wouldn’t fit, so he put them in the private dining room.”

Sirius laughed, thinking it was a shame he would miss the look on Edwyle’s face when he found those extra paintings inexplicably hung in his rooms. At least it was a somewhat good surprise.

“That was very nice of you Dobby” Harry smiled “and they can always move them around if they want.”

“Oh no, they are stuck there now” Dobby responded happily “Dobby couldn’t find any spare hooks in the wall, so he stuck them on with a house elf sticking charm. It’s not permanent of course. Just as long as you have a house elf to take it off.”

Sirius almost fell off his horse laughing at Dobby’s response. Now he was really sorry he would miss Lord Stark’s reaction. Maybe he would ask the portraits themselves when he got a chance. After all, they were wizarding portraits and could easily appear in the spare frames they made for them and kept in the tent. Yes, he would definitely ask.

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Chapter 21 Teaser:

Circling above White Harbor, Harry was pleased to finally see the level of activity and infrastructure that could denote proper civilisation. No offence to the Starks, but Wintertown was by no means a city, even by medieval standards. Nor was White Harbour the second coming of Rome, but it definitely had all the hallmarks of a real city.