MoonyNightShade
patreon
Chapter 8 - Past Forests to the Golden Rose
🕑 Added 2023-04-16 18:29:01 +0000 UTCDisclaimer:
I don’t own the characters or the world appearing in this story, they are creations and property of the fantastic George R. R. Martin. I’m not sure if I can claim my OCs as my own, so I’ll play it safe and dedicate them to GRRM.
____________________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note:
Hello, keeping well I hope?
This chapter mostly just covers the travel from the Rock to Highgarden. It’s pretty fast-paced I think. I hope I did justice to everything that happens in the chapter. One more chapter and Harry will reach Oldtown. I think. In any case, enjoy!
____________________________________________________________________________
[Year - 293 AC]
Wendel had always been content with his lot in life.
As a second son to the Warden of the White Knife, he’d had some expectations placed on him. As few as they were, there were some. In his youth, he’d had to learn his history and carry his sword just like every other lordling had to, but apart from that there was little wanted of him. He was just the second son and he’d been happy.
He was honourable and good with sword and bow which had gotten him knighted. It was not a surprise however, it had been expected of him. He’d even mobilised when the Starks had called to take up arms. He’d fought in both rebellions, the one against Targaryens and the one against Greyjoys. He’d done nothing noteworthy, however.
He also loved his food, just like everyone else in the family. Maybe a little less than the others in hindsight. His love of food made him a large man, but he’d lived with it. Altogether, Wendel Manderly would say he’d led a good life, maybe a little stale if anything.
His quiet life had taken a large turn in just a week. The letter from Lord Stark to protect his nephew in his journey had taken him in an unanticipated direction.
Wendel had known the Starks only from passing glances. He’d seen Lord Brandon in his youth, but it had just been a glance from a distance. He’d never talked with the man, but he did remember the impression he’d gotten of him. He’d been wild and handsome. Brash and impulsive. Maybe that’s what brought him to his early grave, although that particular situation could hardly be his fault. He never knew the man personally and never would, but he’d gotten very familiar with his son in the past few months.
However, he could say one thing for sure. Harry was nothing like his father. The boy was never brash, he always had a calm and collected look to him. He was definitely not impulsive, Harry did nothing without reason behind it. But maybe he was a little wild. He wouldn’t be riding a direwolf that size without having at least a drop of wolfblood in him.
His first meeting with Harry had been truly baffling. There he was, a large man standing threateningly over him and the boy hadn’t been intimidated for a second. Later he’d gotten the opportunity to spar with the lad and seen his proficiency with the blade. Harry had matched him in everything but sheer strength. And the boy knew it too. He was aware of his strengths and used them to his advantage. Maybe that was why he’d not been intimidated, Wendel had thought to himself on a later occasion.
Thinking back to the meeting, instead of being intimidated, Harry had gone a step further and turned the table on him by intimidating him instead. Though he’d used his knowledge rather than brawn. Later Lord Reed shared the story of his own meeting with Harry, which had also gone similarly. Wendel was truly amazed by how knowledgeable the boy was. He had not yet met a Lord that Harry hadn't known of beforehand. He truly couldn’t wrap his head around the reason for a young heir to have learnt of his name beforehand. He was just a second son.
Wendel had nieces who were of similar age to Harry and he was very sure they were nowhere near as smart.
At present, their group was at a two-day distance past the ruined Tarbeck Hall. They’d left Casterly Rock a week ago.
The sky had started to darken already, so they’d decided to camp outside the woods for the day. The Ocean Road taking them to Highgarden took them through the Crakehall forest for two days, hence they’d jumped at the opportunity to spend one final day outside. Their journey was finally reaching its final leg.
Harry himself was practising his aim with a bow. He was shooting arrows at trees and having his direwolf collect the arrows. Wendel had found over time that Harry liked to learn using all sorts of weapons. Yesterday it had been the spear.
Harry’s relationship with his direwolf was an especially unique thing. Wendel was surprised at how much the wolf changed according to the situation. At times like this when they were practising and having fun, the direwolf behaved almost like a normal dog. But when Harry is talking with a lord or keeping busy, the wolf would leave him entirely alone and behave intelligently, almost too intelligently at times.
Harry had just shot at a tree some distance inside the woods and the wolf was running to fetch it. But it suddenly stopped with its snout in the air, ears twitching.
Two of their scouts frantically ran into the clearing. “There’s a merchant caravan being attacked, bandits by the looks of it, m’lord!”
Wendel immediately stood up, gathering his effects with him. Howland was already running to his bow. It took only a few seconds for the men to mobilise.
Harry turned to the scouts, “How many bandits did you count?”
“At least ten, m’lord,” came the answer.
Howland turned to Harry, most probably to tell him to stay back, but the boy beat him to it, “Howland, you promised.”
They both just stared at each other for a moment before Howland visibly deflated, “Please keep safe, Harry.”
Harry nodded back, “I will.”
The group ran into the forest, following the two scouts. The fight was quite a ways away from their camp, which explained the lack of noise. The soldiers immediately jumped into the fight and surrounded them. The bandits were clearly a poor bunch, probably using the forest as cover for their activities. They had iron swords and clubs but no armour. The merchant caravan they’d ambushed seemed to be at least moderately wealthy since they’d had sellswords with them. Currently, however, their caravan was in a precocious state. Their sellswords killed, they were begging for their lives. There was a young girl in the group. Wendel couldn’t even imagine her fate if they’d not been nearby.
Taking stock of the situation, he stepped forward to address them, “Alright you lot, step aside from them. If you value your pathetic lives, put the sword down.”
“Or else what, you kill us?” One of them heckled, drawing laughs from the rest. This idiot obviously didn’t understand the situation. The soldiers had completely surrounded them and they had numbers on their side as well.
“Look around you, we have the numbers and strength. There’s no need to lay down your lives by trying to be brave,” Wendel said, trying to placate them. Unnecessary fights would only lead to bloodshed. Though these men would definitely get the rope if brought in.
“We don’t need the numbers to kill you pansies,” one of them chimed in.
Wendel was starting to wonder where they were getting their courage from. They were surrounded and outnumbered but these morons were still mouthing off.
Suddenly he heard a scream from the merchants' side, and then Howland’s voice, “Harry!”
There was movement from all sides. An ambush! There had been more of them hiding. Someone jumped at him. He didn’t even have a second to think, he dodged the sword swipe and pushed the man, making him lose his balance. With a kick to the face, the man was down.
He gave himself a quick look around to notice any immediate danger before turning towards Harry.
Only to see Harry crouched down in between two corpses. One with a slit to the throat bleeding out and by the convulsions of the body, slowly dying. The other had a clean cut through the stomach, his bowels and intestines were overflowing. This man was already dead. Wendel ran towards Harry, fearing the worst. Reaching close, he saw the boy retching and emptying his stomach on the ground.
Fortunately, their men were already taking down the last of the bandits, so he could concentrate on the lad.
Wendel crouched down and laid a hand on his shoulder “Alright Harry?”
The boy was heaving, “I–I’m a– a– alrig–ht!”
Howland came running, “Harry! Are you hurt!?”
“I’m F–fin–e H–howland!” Harry croaked out before gesturing that he couldn’t talk.
Wendel let out a huge sigh, “Huh, what a mess…”
Seeing that Harry was fine he moved toward the merchant group.
The men had restrained the bandits as best as they could. They would have to be properly tied up. Thankfully, none of the soldiers seemed seriously injured, just a little worse for wear. But three more of the bandits had died.
Walking to a merchant he addressed him, “What’s your name?”
The merchant turned towards him, with a scared expression, obviously still in shock.
“T–thank you, my lord,” he whimpered out.
Wendel sighed again. He did not have the patience to deal with this right now.
____________________________________________________________________________
The merchants had been cloth salesmen with businesses at Oldtown, Highgarden and Lannisport. They’d been on their usual trip to Lannisport when they’d been ambushed. It was all very boring really.
After the ambush, the soldiers rounded up the rest of the bandits and tied them up. He’d spent the time heaving and puking.
The ambush happened right in the middle of Crakehall and Lannisport. Not wanting to travel back to Lannisport, they took the bandits to Crakehall instead. The merchant group had tagged along with them, too afraid to continue their journey without their sellswords.
They spent a day In Crakehall after turning in the bandits and breaking away from the merchant caravan. Bringing along the merchants and bandits had slowed them down, so they didn’t linger and left soon after.
The rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful. The Ocean Road took them along The Sunset Sea on occasion, which was a beautiful sight. Harry was very eager to view the sea from the many balconies of the Citadel.
Thankfully, there were no bandit attacks after, because Harry was sure that Howland wouldn’t let him participate.
The last encounter had scared the Lord of Greywater Watch. Not for his own life, but for that of his charge.
Harry had let Ser Wendel take the lead in dealing with the bandits since there was no way they’d have been intimidated by a ten year old.
Harry had known of the ambush, of course, He’d read the bandit's mind as soon as he started blabbering on. It hadn’t been a very good ambush either, it was just two guys hidden away, tasked to cause distraction. Still, Harry hadn’t known when the two would strike, so he’d been ready for anything.
Although, what he hadn’t expected was for the two to take him for the weak link of the group and gang up on him. Harry had acted on instinct and not even tried to incapacitate, he’d gone for the kill. However good his technique was, he didn’t want to play with two of them. The moment they jumped out, he repositioned around them to keep both of them in his line of sight. He placed one before the other to ensure they couldn’t jump on him at the same time.
Dodging the strike heading his way, he’d immediately slit the throat of the one closest to him. The man crumbled, clawing at his throat, trying to stop the blood from leaking. Moving around the man, Harry had not waited for the second one and swung immediately. This one had been too shocked by Harry killing his friend, too shocked to even dodge. The sword had passed through his abdomen without resistance and he dropped like a fly, his intestines spilling out. Harry had taken a moment to take note of the situation and that’s when the adrenaline dropped and the smell hit him. Harry couldn’t hold it in at all. The smell of sweat and the musk from these men who probably hadn’t washed in god knows how long, combined with the smell of blood and shit.
It had taken retching and heaving for a good few minutes for him to gather himself. Fortunately, he wasn’t needed after the initial round. Though, Howland wouldn't leave his side for quite some time after.
At present, they were pulling up near Highgarden. It would take another half a day to reach the castle but the sky had already darkened quite a bit. Deciding not to take unnecessary risks, they’d decided to stop for the day.
Harry, having sparred with the soldiers for some time, was making his way towards the river Mander.
Hearing horse hooves he turned to see soldiers riding along the riverside. Noticing him walking to the river, the soldiers turned towards him. Harry saw the golden flower on their armour.
“What are you doing here boy,” Called out the one leading them.
Harry bowed his head trying to make himself cower, “I’m travelling with a group headed to Oldtown, m’lord. I just came here for a wash.”
“Oldtown? What’s your purpose there?” The soldier looked at him with a speculating gaze.
“We are escorting Lord Stark to the Citadel, m’lord,” Harry said meekly.
The soldiers looked shocked. “Lord Stark? You’re from the North?”
“Yes, m’lord.”
Contemplating for a moment the soldier seemed to finally arrive at a decision, “Take us to him,” he said.
Awkwardly motioning them to follow, Harry turned to walk back to the camp. The soldiers trotted behind him on their horses.
They reached the camp in just a few minutes. Seeing the sudden intrusion, the camp immediately became active. Howland quickly moved to his side with Ser Wendel following.
Seeing the soldiers dismounting behind Harry, Howland turned to him with a questioning look.
“Harry, who are these men?”
Before Harry could answer, the soldiers pushed forward. “We are soldiers of House Tyrell, can you take us to Lord Stark?”
Howland had a baffled expression on his face, while Ser Wendel was looking at him as if he was an idiot.
“You want us to take you to Lord Stark?” Howland asked.
“Yes, will you be passing through Highgarden? We were headed back to the castle from our patrol.”
Understanding what Harry had done, ser Wendel piped up, “Lord Stark’s right in front of you.”
“Where? Are you… Lord Stark?” The soldier asked Ser Wendel, confused.
Harry straightened up and met the soldier’s eye, “Here I am. Am I right in assuming you are offering to escort us to Highgarden?”
The soldier was well and truly confused. He turned to Howland for some clarification, but Howland was as serious as a rock.
“Well, I’m waiting…” Harry spoke out, catching his attention.
“A– uhm, y–you are Lord Stark?” The soldier looked like he would have loved to be anywhere but here.
“I sure am. Harold Stark, son of Brandon Stark.”
Struggling for a while the soldier finally seemed to accept it, “Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t know.”
Harry met him with a smile, “It’s alright, you did nothing so grave as to ask forgiveness.”
The soldier seemed happy that he wasn’t scolded, which Harry found to be hilarious.
“If I may, why didn’t you say anything?” The soldier seemed to be a little nervous.
“You didn’t ask,” Harry replied simply.
The soldier seemed to have lost all will to continue the conversation.
“What’s your name?” Harry asked, trying to save the man from embarrassment. Or at least any more than what he’s suffered already.
To his credit, the soldier grabbed the branch extended to him. “It’s Robert, my lord.”
Harry smiled a little teasingly, “Oh! Named after the king, lofty aren’t we?”
Robert refused to be pulled back into the hole. “It’s my grandfather’s name, my lord.”
With a final chuckle, Harry finally gave in.
“Alright, Robert,” He began “Tell me, what was your plan before encountering me?”
Robert gathered himself to his usual bearing, “We were going to ride straight to Highgarden, my lord.”
“At night?” Harry asked with a questioning look.
Robert nodded, “The roads are safe once we cross the bridge, my lord. We would have reached by dawn.”
Harry glanced around. The camp was already set up, and the men were preparing for supper. “We’ve already set camp. It won’t do to break it down now. Why don’t you send half your men to announce our arrival and the other half can escort us at daybreak?”
“That can be done, my lord,” Robert replied.
“See it done,” Harry said, turning towards Ser Wendel, “Help Robert settle his men after.”
“Yes, my lord,” Ser Wendel moved away, ushering the Tyrell men with him.
Harry couldn’t keep himself from sighing. With this distraction taken care of, he can finally take his bath.
____________________________________________________________________________
In the morning he got the satisfaction of seeing Robert’s baffled expression again when Moony returned from his hunt.
After taking a quick bath at the Mander, Harry was off again.
They were making good time the entire way. Once the bridge was crossed, the roads were very well taken care of, which increased their pace even more. By the evening they’d entered Highgarden.
A group of soldiers had already been assigned to lead them into the castle at the checkpost. Robert and his group broke away from him at that point. With Robert trying to get away the fastest.
With a chuckle, Harry rode with the men into the castle.
His first look at the castle made him doubt if he’d overestimated the Tully castle of its beauty. Because it couldn’t compare to Highgarden. The entire castle proper had properly tended shrubbery wrapping around it. The castle itself was painted white with blue conical roofs for the towers. There was so much greenery everywhere. If Casterly Rock was majestic then Highgarden was beautiful. He would choose Highgarden over any castle he’d seen in his life up to this point.
He must’ve been gawking, because Howland nudged him from the side.
Dropping his gaze, Harry noticed they were closing in on the castle proper.
And then he saw them. The first proper family he’d seen since leaving Winterfell. Lord Tyrell stood with his Lady wife on one side and his mother on the other. Behind them was a whole retinue of kids.
Harry felt genuinely happy at the sight.
Mace Tyrell was a fat man with curly brown hair. His face was even and symmetrical and still contained the signs of his once handsome visage. The man had a proud look to him, but it lacked the cunning he’d seen in other lords.
He greeted the man with a wide smile, “Lord Tyrell, forgive me for my impertinence, your castle is simply too beautiful. It's a pleasure to finally meet the man who can boast of besting our king.”
Harry conveniently left out the part where Mace had conceded to his uncle, but Lord Tyrell was hardly thinking of that.
Whatever Mace Tyrell’s views of Harry had been, they were going up significantly, Harry could visibly see it on his face, “Good lad, It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
Harry turned away, not showing any reaction to the man treating him like a child.
“Lady Tyrell it’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” He said before turning to the most important person in the castle, “Lady Olenna, I have heard stories of your wit. Thank you for inviting me to the castle.”
She had already been looking at him closely from the moment he addressed Mace Tyrell but she let her gaze drop as he addressed her. “We could hardly turn away the heir to Winterfell when he comes knocking. Let’s get inside, you can all chatter more when we’re comfortable.” She said before turning away. Her twin guardsmen following her.
Harry started after her with a smile but stopped when he saw the kids glancing at him.
“Let me guess,” Harry said, pointing to them one by one “Willas, Garlan, Loras and Margaery”
Willas looked to be of around nineteen name days. He wasn’t particularly handsome like his brothers but seemed good-natured and intelligent.
Willas looked at him with wonder. “Amazing! I’m afraid I couldn’t have identified all your cousins if I’d visited Winterfell, Lord Stark.”
Harry smiled and shook his head, “I asked the soldiers of your family, Lord Willas, It's nothing impressive, and please call me Harry.”
“Only if you call me Willas,” he said with a smile of his own.
“I’d be honoured to, Willas,” Harry replied.
Together they made their way to the hall. Harry made conversation with the boys along the way. He felt a sense of comfort in being amongst kids his own age, something which had been missing throughout the journey. The Tyrell kids were also very amiable in accommodating him, Loras especially was very excited at meeting a lord his own age.
For the first time since the forest, Harry felt a special feeling in his heart. A feeling he’d only ever felt in Winterfell before.
____________________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note:
So, one more down, a lot more to come. What are your thoughts on the chapter?
In this chapter, Harry got his first kill. It is a bit soon at ten name days, but all the best warriors start early. And with how I’ve established Harry in the story, I don’t think it’s too far fetched. If it’s okay to get married at twelve then…
Moving on to less controversial topics, what did you guys think of the chapter? I started with Wendel at the beginning since I hadn’t touched on his backstory. I had very little information about him, so I made up most of it. I also had some fun writing the fight from Wendel’s point of view, however short it was. I didn’t really want to drag on a fight with some random bandits, especially when they had so many soldiers with them.
I did want to do something interesting with the merchant. I was looking into introducing someone important through that encounter, but couldn't find any important event that could’ve taken place during that time period. But still, I can’t help but wonder if I missed an opportunity there. At least Harry got to have some fun with Robert.
I got a comment from ‘branphillips001’ about my grammar, punctuation in particular, which I’m all for. I do want to improve after all. But please be more descriptive if possible. It would help me out if you could point towards a sentence and tell me how it could be changed. Thank you for pointing it out though, I’ll look into punctuation when I get the time.
