Dragonlord Chapter 164: Pax Avalon

While Winterfell was in the process of amassing a substantial army to face off the wildlings threatening the Wall, Harry arrived at Avalon with Arianne and Nymeria. The towers of Avalon rose against the late afternoon sky, their pale stone catching the light of the sinking sun. Banners whipped above the battlements, bearing the black direwolf of House Stark of Avalon.

“So, this is Avalon. I heard stories from my uncle and Nym about a castle born from old magic, but they hold no candle to what I see.” Arianne said in awe, her onyx eyes glinting as she took in the shiny towers and the massive keeps that looked like they were made from a single stone.

Harry chuckled as he watched his seat of power approach from the deck of the Nimbus. He saw a flock of birds circling the observatory tower dedicated to the study of Astronomy.

The Nimbus landed in the bay of ships, where men of the Avalonian fleet took charge of the ship’s upkeep. They rode from the bay to the main gates of the castle upon horses while people lined up the cobbled streets to greet them and peek at the Lord and Lady of Avalon.

They passed through the outer wall and inner wall of the castle to the cheers of Avalon’s people. The cobbled streets were lined with flowers and scented oils. The smell of apple trees and plum blossoms hit them hard once they passed through the gates of the outer wall. The space between the two curtain walls was filled with all kinds of exotic trees. Even the oranges of Summer Islands grew on this space thanks to Harry’s masterful manipulation of magic that controlled the weather in the region.  

It was the largest greenhouse in the entire world, supplying the most luxurious fruits and crops for the castle’s consumption and even for export to different parts of the North.

The rest of their household, some of Dornish origin, followed behind them as the castle and the city itself entered a festive mood.

Harry dismounted once he entered the courtyard, pulling off his gloves as the reins of his horse were taken by a stable boy. His wife, still radiant as ever, swept down from her steed with a grace that drew every eye.

Nymeria, her ever-present cousin, dismounted beside her, sharp-eyed and smiling faintly at the bustle of guards and servants who hurried forward to greet their lord and lady.

The great doors of Avalon’s great keep swung wide, but before Harry could issue a word of command to the steward and servants, Arianne’s hand caught his arm. Her dark eyes, flashing like polished obsidian, left no doubt of her intentions, as he could see a primal need in her eyes.

“Let the household see to themselves, husband,” she murmured, low enough for only him to hear. “We have been too long upon the road. I would not wait another hour.”

Harry arched a brow, amused, though heat stirred in his chest at the sultry note of her voice.

“You would not wait even to break bread?”

“Bread is for the hungry,” Arianne whispered, leaning close so her lips brushed his ear. “I crave only you.”

Nymeria smirked knowingly as Arianne drew Harry away, though she did not attempt to follow. The castle staff scurried about preparing chambers, but Arianne was far too impatient to wait. So, they went straight to Harry’s chambers and closed the doors.

**** Lemon Scene in Discord Patron only channels ****

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The first light of dawn crept into Avalon’s high tower chamber, filtering through the slitted windows to spill across tangled sheets and sleeping forms. The brazier’s embers had burned low in the night, leaving only faint warmth. Arianne stirred beside him, her head resting upon his shoulder, hair a silken cascade across his chest.

Harry lay awake. He had not slept much, though not from unrest. Their night together had been long and full, and though his body craved rest, his mind had already turned toward the burdens waiting beyond their bedchamber.

He lay there a little longer, savouring the steady rise and fall of Arianne’s breath, the gentle weight of her against him and the fine curves of her body. He was tempted to stay in bed and once more enjoy her from dusk till dawn.  

Yet even as he thought of such an enticing day with his beautiful wife, he knew he could not linger. A lord’s duty did not wait for desire, and his duties were many.

Slowly, carefully, Harry shifted from beneath her, tucking the furs around her shoulders. Arianne murmured something in her sleep—his name, perhaps—but did not wake. He stood, dressing in silence, pulling a thick wool tunic over his frame and belting Godkiller at his hip.

Now, he looked every bit like the Starks of old.

Avalon might lie far south of the Wall and leagues away from Winterfell, but he was still a Stark, and winter lived within his blood. Avalon’s connections to the rest of the world through their massive fleet of ships and merchants made them focus on happenings on distant shores.

Nonetheless, when wildlings attack the Wall, even the most learned merchants in the city knew their eyes out to turn further north.

The castle stirred to life as Harry descended from the tower. Servants bustled through the courtyards, kindling fires, carrying water, and preparing the morning meal. Stablehands led horses to water, their breath steaming in the cool air. From the walls came the call of guards greeting the rising sun.

Avalon was a fortress unlike any other. Its towers were high and pale, ringed with crenellations, but its gardens bloomed with orange trees and bright flowers, rare in the North. The courtyard echoed with the clatter of armoured boots. The recent addition was the laughter of Dornish handmaidens in silks as they traversed the span of the castle from top to bottom.

He arrived at the chambers where he held council with his advisors and spies. Like all times, once he sent word summoning his most trusted stewards, advisors and spies, they came in haste.

First to arrive was Maester Marwyn with his wooden staff. Then came Anya, Adela and Brynna. But the Valkyrie was not complete as Harry noted the absence of Alaenera. He made a mental note to inquire about her absence once the council meeting concluded.

Celos Poole, his trusted steward, came in, followed by Alyn, the captain of his guards. Then came Josera and Elsera Snow, the baseborn children of Gregor Forrester. His chief spy, Daro Ohadras, was the last to come into the council chamber. The seat of Avalonain fleet admiral remained vacant as Admiral Nimpton remained in Pyke, overseeing the fleet establish their dominance over Ironman’s Bay and beyond.

“The Night’s Watch sends word that wildlings gather in strength behind the Wall—thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. My brother Robb gathers the banners of the North in Winterfell to beat back this wildling threat. I intend to support him.” Harry declared.

Now with that out of the way, he focused on what he could do to support the Night’s Watch.

“I know we’re embroiled in a conflict across the seas. Still, we must provide support to the Wall. So, what can we offer?” he asked, looking at each of his people in the eyes.

“The mountain passes have been cleared of snow, my prince. We can freely move any goods or men to support the Shadow Tower. If need be, the port in Bear Island is sufficiently provisioned to send men and materials to the Wall by sailing into Westwatch-by-the-Bridge.” Celos said.

As the steward of Avalon, Celos was given the duty of managing food stocks and other essential resources in the castle. Harry was thankful the man had done his duty by overseeing their reserve stocks and keeping the road ahead open without prompting.

“We have enough icebreaker ships, and I gather the Mormonts would be sending their support as well. It’d be wise to reach out to Lady Mormont and coordinate our movements.” Maester Marwyn suggested.

“Yes. Write to Lady Mormont. But send word to House Glover and the Mountain clans as well. It’d be best to take them along in our planning if we’re taking the mountain road.” Harry said, steepling his fingers on the table as he stared at the map of the North sprawled on the table.

“Will you be taking the field, my prince?” Marwyn asked.

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I have tried to avoid this pointless bloodletting, but pride has doomed the wildlings. My brothers will finish this pointless war.”

Wasn’t that the truth! He had offered the wildings a safe place far away from the danger of being hunted to extinction by the Others. If they had taken his offer, the wildling clans could’ve kept their culture and lived relatively free, far removed from the hostilities of the Northern lords.

In time, he could’ve even turned them into a functioning civilised society.

But pride and stubbornness saw to it that the wildlings chose bloodshed over peace and safety.

“How many men can we spare?” Harry asked.

“Six hundred at best without compromising Avalon’s needs, my prince. Good men, trained, but not our best godsgrove knights—we cannot risk emptying Avalon entirely.”

“And supplies?”

Celos unrolled a parchment and consulted the numbers.

“We can give five thousand bushels of grain, and salted meat besides. Enough to see them through winter if wisely rationed. But no more than that, my prince. We’re after all engaged in war overseas.” Celos informed him promptly.

“And weapons?”

“Aplenty, my prince. We can arm the Wall twice over, and we’d still not put a dent in the armoury, thanks to the haul we took from the Iron Islands. With the iron ore of the islands under our control, we’ll not lack for steel for a thousand years and more.” Celos said with utter confidence.

Harry nodded slowly as he became immersed in thought.

“Then so be it. Six hundred men, five thousand bushels of food, a thousand weapons. Have the men be sent to the Shadow Tower, the Sentinel Stand and Westwatch-by-the-Sea. Have them watch the Gorge for Wildlings trying to circle the Wall.” Harry ordered.

“It’ll be done, my prince.” Celos promised.

“Good.” Harry turned his eyes on his chief spy. “Now, tell me what has happened in the south, Daro.”

“The Golden Company has crossed the Narrow Sea and captured almost all the castles along the eastern coast of the Stormlands. Greenstone, Mistwood, Rain House, Crow’s Nest and Griffin’s Roost all fly the golden banner. They tried to siege Storm’s End, but Ser Barristan Selmy smashed them outside the walls of the castle.”

“I see.” Harry said slowly. “It seems Aegon is slowly consuming the Stormlands piece by piece.”

He already knew what Aegon had been up to. After all, he had briefly met Lord Swann, who had arrived at Winterfell on the orders of Stannis Baratheon. It was a pointless discussion, given that the North was already done with the framework of the Seven Kingdoms.

It no longer benefited them. Once Lord Swan received his father’s refusal in writing, the man had all but ridden hard south. After all, Stonehelm had fallen to Aegon and Prince Oberyn in Lord Swann’s absence.

Harry wasn’t confident Lord Swann could change anything in the Stormlands. The only thing interesting now would be to see how long House Baratheon can hold on to Storm’s End.  

“What is going on with House Florent? I’d have assumed they’d have come to Stannis’ aid.” Harry asked.

“They have sent the bulk of their forces to help hold King’s Landing against a possible invasion from Targaryen forces entrenched in Dragonstone. The rest are busy holding off the Tully forces and the Company of Rose in the Westerlands. They have been trying to gather more support from the Reach, but with the Dornishmen crossing the Marches, most are unwilling to part with their men-at-arms for a battle leagues away.”

“Daenerys Targaryen is that much of a threat?” Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow.

He remembered the Targaryen girl and her half-mad brother. He was surprised when Viserys managed to cobble together a sellsword army and invaded Dragonstone. He spared the Targaryen siblings on the distant hope that something like this would happen. What he didn’t expect was for them to be so effective, especially after Viserys’ demise.

With his death, he assumed the Targaryen cause would be dead. But Daenerys was surprising him. He already knew she had somehow hatched dragons on the island. But he didn’t expect her to keep nominal control over her armies to threaten King’s Landing.

“It’s Euron Greyjoy who threatens King’s Landing, my prince. The last we heard, the Crow’s Eye was seen invading Tarth with more sellsails and sellswords joining his cause.” said Daro.  

“The Crow’s Eye is a menace and a dangerous opponent. He is not an ordinary reaver. He has amassed otherworldly power with the help of a shadow binder from Asshai.” Marwyn warned with a serious look.

“A shadow binder?” Harry was immediately interested in this development.

He looked expectantly at his chief spy, and Daro didn’t disappoint.

“A Red Priestess by the name of Melisandre, my prince.” Daro said.

“Melisandre… I’ll remember that name.” Harry said with a thoughtful nod before staring curiously at Marwyn. “And you said Euron Greyjoy has come to possess some otherworldly power.”

“Yes, my prince.”

“What kind of power?” Harry asked curiously.

“The kind that can notice when I’m using the glass candles to watch him.” said Marwyn.

“Truly? Impressive.” Harry murmured, leaning back in his seat.

Harry drummed his fingers against the table in contemplation.

“These sellswords… have they disturbed our sea lanes, our trade routes?” Harry asked, directing his query at Josera, who was more knowledgeable in matters of the sea.

“They’ve blocked the Gullet to all ships. We can break the blockade with the help of the Manderly fleet. We’ll also need Runestone and Gulltown to cooperate, as we’ll need their ports to house those ships for repairs and resupply.” Josera said without mincing words.

“Well, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” Harry said with a snort.

He had burned all goodwill with the lords of the Vale by conquering the Three Sisters. Those islands were nothing but trouble for the Valemen, but it’d be political suicide for them to admit it or even collude with him openly.

“The current situation in the Gullet has been beneficial to us in trade. More Braavosi ships have gone through the canal and used our ports to trade with the Reach.” Celos quickly pointed out.

“Is that so?” Harry smiled amusedly.

‘It seems I have to be thankful to Euron Greyjoy.’ Harry thought.

“In that case, we must accelerate our plans on the Sunset Sea.” Harry said, staring at the island of Fair Isle and Lannisport on the map while steepling his fingers.

It was now the perfect time to launch a strike at the south so devastating that it’d remain destabilised for the foreseeable future.

‘There will be peace following this war, but it’ll be on my terms.’ Harry mused with determination.