c2

Oldtown, the Docks…

The night was already well upon the people of Oldtown and many of the sailors were either sleeping on their ships or more commonly enjoying their coin in the taverns and brothels of the city. One in particular that night was particularly rowdy, the Quill and Tankard set on Honeywine Island. It had never closed in over six hundred years of operation according to legend. The sailors inside were enjoying their ale and singing songs aplenty while a game of cards was played. The sailors were gambling any treasure or money that they had to hand either on the table or between themselves on who they thought would win.

The pile on the table grew higher with whatever object of value could be found was bet. Jewellery, coins from many different places, musical instruments, maps and perfumes anything that could be worth something was wagered.

The group of gamblers that were sat at the table were looking at their cards, eyes confident although that was more to do with the fact that many of them were completely drunk and would have fallen over if not for the fact they were sitting down. However the hooded figure at the head of the table who so far tonight had the largest pile of loot was no sailor and nor was he drunk. He might have bought dinks for people sometimes to lure them into the game but he had not touched a drop of ale all night. No one could clearly see his face or even if they had looked up his hood could they really remember what they had seen. He held his cards carefully, judging his hand and gave the appearance of wondering if it was good enough with the occasional hum before finally making his decision.

"I raise." He said offering a small pile of coins for the pile, his voice giving a slight quiver as if he was not quite sure. The sailors smiled thinking that it was a bluff and decided to call, shoving what possessions that they had left into their own piles, all confident that they had the winning hand.

"All in." They sneered at the figure sitting at the head of the table, who unbeknown to them smirked under his hood before lying down his hand and revealing a straight flush while they only had two a pair or a straight. Some had nothing at all and all the sailors looked shell-shocked at the hand presented to them while the hooded man quickly swept his winnings up in a bag before any of the sailors got their wits back. And when finally the largest of them realised what had happened he snarled at the hooded man.

"YOU LITTLE!" Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by the hooded stranger throwing a number of coins in the air and shouting out as loud as possible.

"NEXT ROUND OF DRINKS ARE ON ME!"

The reaction was exactly what he had wanted as people leapt forward to get the coins that he had thrown so they could get a free drink. The angry sailors were cut off by the swatch of people while the hooded stranger made his escape out of the door. He dived around a corner and into an alley before any of the angry sailors could force their way through the crowd and a popping sound could be heard if anyone had been really listening. The sailors when they finally rushed out of the building, splitting up to try and find the hooded stranger only to be disappointed as he was long gone.

-x-

In a room at Hightower the popping sound heralded the arrival of the hooded stranger who smirked as he lowered his hood, revealing Harry Tyrell now aged fifteen years old who was smiling as he looked through the bag to see what he had gotten tonight. Shrugging off the cloak he saw the number of coins from different places as you might expect from sailors, not much but enough to add to the small fortune he was gathering.

But his favourite gain from his nightly excursions was on his own finger, a ring that had been styled like a dragon with runic engravings and tiny rubies for eyes. He had taken to wearing that ring as it was made of Valyrian steel and had been a great aide in focusing his powers, like a wand.

He then went to his dresser and pulled it open before opening another compartment that was hidden where he kept his other private stash. Aside from the coins he had acquired a few rings and necklaces, bracelets and other pieces of jewellery and valuables. Grinning from ear to ear he looked at the flute from Lys that had been teaching himself to play and the Myrish maps and navigation equipment he had acquired from a sea captain who had bet it when he was too deep into his cups. Orphan maker, the bronze coloured dragon egg and the Resurrection Stone also peaked out at him; the things that he favoured most and did not dare show yet. Harry honestly was glad to have kept them to himself as knowing his father Mace would have claimed the sword at the very least as his own. That brought a frown to his face but only for a moment before he put away the new additions before closing off the secret compartment and changing his clothes to grab a few hours of sleep before he was due in yard tomorrow.

-x-

The morning was bright and crisp as the men worked in the yard to improve their swordsmanship, spectators gathered to watch. Many ladies giggled as they watched knights, both young and old flexing their muscles but in one area three men duelled with a boy of fifteen years.

Harry was using two wooden training swords to deflect their attacks away from himself as he moved with between each one, parrying and shielding his body with a grace and skill born of many hours training and advice from the ghost of Aemon the Dragonknight. The men opposite him might be older but Harry smiled as he managed to score a 'killing blow' on a man twice his age and then wasted no time in disarming another with a hit on the arm before making a stabbing motion that it done with a real sword would have resulted in death.

Harry feeling content turned to the last man standing and twirled his swords in a complex ready pattern to unnerve the man further. Aemon had taught him that unsettling your opponent could be just as effective as changing fighting styles, unsettled they were more prone to mistakes and not fighting with their full focus. It had the desired effect as the middle-aged knight, who was already shocked at how quickly Harry had dispatched his fellows. The smirk on young Harry's face reminded the knight more of a shark than a boy of fifteen who without missing a beat moved in for the 'kill'. His left sword slashed forward which the knight managed to block only for the right to come forward in a stabbing motion, directed straight at the knight's groin.

Harry smirked in victory while the knight could only drop his sword in defeat, he then walked over and shook the defeated knight's hand.

"Good match." Harry told him, being gracious in victory would hopefully not earn him too many enemies this early on as the ghosts had taught him. The defeated knight took it with good grace and walked away to preserve what was left of his tattered pride. A boy about Harry's own age walked over and frowned in mock seriousness.

"We are going to run out of men to fight you soon. Nearly every knight in our family's service has been humiliated by your sword work. They spend hours complaining about it in the taverns." He might have been frowning but Gunthor's eyes were sparkling with amusement. Harry just laughed and said.

"Well they should be more focused on improving their own skills than moaning about me." Both young men laughed and knocked fists together. When Harry had arrived at Hightower the family had kept him at arm's length for a while but one night he had come across Gunthor, the second son of Ser Baelor Hightower (who himself was Lord Hightower heir) drunkenly shouting up at the moon one night that he was going to be the greatest knight that House Hightower had ever produced. That he would serve as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard like Ser Gerold 'White Bull' Hightower before him and that he would remind the realm of how powerful and important the Hightowers were. Harry had helped him back to his room and then the following morning when Gunthor had stumbled into the yard with a hangover Harry had sat him down and given him some tea until he was sensible enough to fight, never telling Lord Hightower how drunk Gunthor had been.

It had been a strange start to a friendship but none the less they had over the years become close, sparring and joking with each other as only two young men could. However they could not spar today as Lord Hightower then showed up and said with his normal stern voice.

"Quite true. It is always easier to blame your own failings on others than take the responsibility yourself. Gunthor, your father wishes to see you now."

Gunthor nodded and ran off to find his father while Lord Hightower stayed and stared imperiously at Harry who just stood there matching his gaze. Finally Lord Hightower spoke when he was sure that he had Harry's full attention.

"Impressive, your skill with a blade is remarkable for one so young. It reminds me of my late uncle Ser Gerold Hightower, the White Bull. Perhaps you might make a decent knight yet." Lord Hightower said briskly, giving a rare compliment which Harry knew from his years under the man's care meant he was truly impressed.

"Thank you Lord Hightower." Harry said with a small bow and then asked. "Is there something wrong my lord? It is unusual to see you in the yard." Harry to his knowledge had only seen Lord Hightower here once and that was to introduce him to the castle's master at arms when it was time for him to start learning to wield a sword, so something must be up. Harry wondered if his father might have actually done something really stupid this time and started a war or done the Reach a favour by dying and letting his grandmother have free reign as regent until Loras came of age and guided him as she had done Mace. Either was a possibility.

Many would consider his thoughts cold and uncaring if they knew them but Harry was merely being practical. His grandmother knew more about ruling and had more common sense in her little finger than his father had in his whole body. The number of lords he had insulted beggared belief and it was only a matter of time before someone would do something about it rather than take it quietly.

"No my young ward, nothing is wrong just the opposite. Your father has arranged for you to wed Lady Elinor Ashford once you come of age. This will of course make you the Lord of Ashford as she is the last of her house. Congratulations, you return to Highgarden tomorrow." Lord Hightower said without emotion not caring a jot whether Harry considered this good news or not and swiftly departed while Harry was still stunned at the declaration.

Harry however soon got over the shock and began to visibly flume with anger, causing many in the yard to give him a wide berth, fearing an outburst. This move just reeked of his father's stupidity Harry thought, his grandmother would at least have gotten a marriage alliance outside of the Reach to whoever it might be to dampen internal conflict. His father on the other hand wanted to get his grubby little claws on Ashford and its castle. If Lady Elinor was closer to his own age Harry might have even gone along with it even if he had no interest in the woman but the dowager lady was in her late sixties and given that she had a great nephew in House Rowan with his own strong claim to Ashford this would majorly insult one of the Tyrell's strongest vassals at the same time, the strongest next to House Tarly who had their own reasons to hate the Tyrells. It might be naïve of him but marrying a woman that was nearly seventy with the sole intention of waiting for her to die so he could claim her castle…well Harry shuddered in how appalling he found it. Not mention it might well end his family if the Rowans decided to fight them for it and the Tarly's sided with them.

His decision was made in seconds, he was not going to go along with his father's plan but he would not simply protest for that approach with his father's stubbornness would get him nowhere. The best thing would be to say that he was going to travel for a time before returning home for his wedding…ideally after Lady Ashford had died. If that happened while he was abroad then House Rowan would claim the castle and there would be no upset created. With his plan set he returned to his room and ordered the maids to prepare a bath for him while he looked through the stockpile of money and treasures he had gathered. The money would be enough to see him right for a time and if he could join one of the larger sellsword companies which with his skills would not be difficult, that should enable him to stay abroad for a few years. Hopefully long enough that he could avoid his upcoming nuptials.

He was quick to hide his stash when the maids arrived with the bath and he dismissed them as soon as he was able. Slipping into the warm water he started to plan his escape from Hightower, the uptight Lord Hightower would never let him go if his liege lord had ordered otherwise so how best to slip away Harry wondered?

The obvious way would be to buy passage on a ship but that would eat into his funds and he might well be caught before he could leave.

So Harry thought with a smile that left his personal talent. He felt the warm energy moving up and around his hand as he conjured a ball of light in the palm of his hand, enjoying the power that flowed through him, another gift of the ring although an unintended one.

A year or so after using the Stone of Resurrection Harry had started having the weirdest dreams, the strangest of images of another world.

Another life and more to the point another boy named Harry. Except he carried the name Potter rather than Tyrell. It had been strange, like looking at a distorted reflection in the mirror but one thing that stood out more than anything else in the crazy adventures of the other Harry was that he had magic, learning to control in some great old castle. Intrigued Harry Tyrell had pondered if he could use magic too since he had no wand but on the off chance he might he had tried the lumos spell and a ball of light much to his own surprise had appeared in the palm of his hand. In his excitement he had lost concentration but with diligent practice he had managed to copy all of the abilities of his alternate self with his special dragon ring acting as a foci to make things easier although he might be able to do it without but it would be more exhausting. Teleporting was one talent that had proven especially useful and was the key to his escape now.

With his great speed he gathered his all clothes, especially his simple leather travelling clothes that were tough and durable and a pack that he had layered with a weightless charm and for it to be bigger on the inside. Putting his small number of possessions inside and the specially prepared tent and hanging a pouch of money from his belt, he thought about where he should go. The downsides of magical teleportation was that you had to know where you were going unless you wanted to leave parts of yourself behind or end up in the middle of a wall.

But a trip to Braavos with Lord Hightower years before provided a way around that. He had seen the city with his own eyes and knew full well where he could land without being seen. A portkey would be best he thought to avoid losing too much energy by teleporting himself over there, so with that in mind he sat down and wrote three letters; one to Lord Hightower explaining his flight from the castle, another to Gunthor and a more personal one for his grandmother so she would understand why he had done this.

Leaving the letters on the dresser he took a firm hold of a strip of cloth and said aloud as he concentrated his energy into it with the image of a back alley he had seen in Braavos.

"Portus." He said and the strip of white fabric glowed briefly a strange blue, with one last look around and excitement buzzing inside him as he took the first step in his dream of travelling the world he then said. "Activate."

With a jerk to the naval and a slight popping sound Harry Tyrell disappeared from Westeros and would not return for a long time.

Braavos…

It was a warm morning in Braavos, but quiet as many were still in their beds, so no-one saw or even heard the slight pop that heralded Harry's arrival in the city.

When he finally regained his balance and forced his stomach to calm down he pulled his tent from his pack and with a wave of his hand and a bit of magic it assembled itself in moments. He checked the wards to keep people away and the runes that hid it from the eyes of other people without powers. He then briefly looked down at his clothes and quickly changed out of the fine tunic and breeches in green and emblazoned with the image of a golden rose which would announce his affiliation to House Tyrell, instead dressing in sturdy but well-made and discreet black leather. Many sailors wore such garments and there were many sailors in this city so he hoped it would help him blend in.

Certain that everything was set he walked out onto the street and took in a breath of sea air as he looked out on the city.

It was a truly impressive sight, the entire city was nestled in a lagoon and was much like the city of Venice on the other world. Large canals stretching right across the city with paved walkways and sculpted bridges over them build on hundreds of small islands, a small wonder then that the city was sometimes called Braavos of the Hundred Isles.

He walked down the streets which now started coming to life as merchants and fishermen came out to make their daily coin. There were so many different ethnicities here that no one even gave him a second look. He walked past so many stalls in the market place that he honestly believed you could find anything you wanted here but he was used to such things from living in Oldtown for so long. With that in mind he went to see some of the cities more impressive landmarks.

The easiest to find was the great Titan of Braavos, Harry smiled when he saw the enormous statue of a warrior wondering how the freed slaves of Valyria had built such a structure, a perfectly carved stone soldier in full battle gear covered in bronze to prevent corrosion. It was a shame he could not go up to the top he mused, the view would have been spectacular. Then he had a rather silly idea, or what his grandmother would have called silly if she had known about it. He smiled ducking into a side street and looked this way and that before he vanished with a pop.

The wind was rather jarring when he reappeared on the top of statue's head, at over four hundred feet above ground it was to be expected but while a shiver went through Harry as he established firm footing the view was indeed worth it. You could see for miles in every direction, clear and unobstructed except for the arm of the statue that held his sword. Looking out to sea Harry could see dozens of ships either entering or leaving the harbour but these large vessels were reduced to the size of toys at this height. He was bright eyed and almost ready to pick them up but he instead turned around and looked towards the city which was even more impressive like an oil painting stretching into the distance. He could see the place called Drowned Town, the oldest part of the city barely sitting up out of the water. The many dockyards spread along the water front and the large building that was the Iron Bank in the distance.

He could well believe that it was the most powerful building in the world as despite it being smaller than the Red Keep or any of the largest castles in the world, it was the greatest bank there was anywhere extending its services to princes, archons and kings. He remembered both his grandmother and Lord Hightower saying that its shadow stretched across the entire world especially if you owed them money, raising rivals to challenge the debtor and would often tear them down. The people that replaced them would in short order repay the debt for fear of being torn down themselves…money was power after all.

Turning away from the Iron Bank Harry looked down at the Arsenal, nestled near the Titan. The large citadel which contained many ships of the city's navy as well as the largest shipyard that Harry had ever seen, one capable of building a whole war galley in a day. Along the walls of the citadel were scorpions, trebuchets and spitfires to equip a whole navy with men constantly on patrol ready if an attack should ever come on the city. Harry thought briefly about visiting it and having a little look around with a disillusion charm but decided it was a bad idea, those charms only worked for so long and if it failed at the wrong moment, things might become very…awkward.

Instead he decided to return to the city and continue his exploration. After all he thought when he disappeared with a pop there was still much to see.

-x-

Wandering past the taverns and brothels of the city Harry smiled, loving every moment of his new found freedom. There was so many places in the city to see that it could take him days to see them all. Already he had seen the House of Red Hands, the Palace of the Sealord and the Temple of the Moonsingers with its white marble walls and bright silver dome with milk glass windows that showed all the phases of the moon. He was just thinking on where to go next when he came upon another building one with a black and white door.

A strange chill came upon as he looked at it, the same strange purple glow coming off of it as the ring. There was something magical about that building Harry realised with surprise, after his two special rings and himself it was the only magical thing he had encountered in this world so far. The coldness of the aura was enough to make it unsettling and while his instincts told him to leave the building well alone his curiosity made him walk closer to the black and white doors.

Suddenly as if sensing his presence the doors opened and Harry took a step back, his hands going to Orphanmaker in readiness for a fight only for a strange unarmed old man to emerge. While he appeared no threat Harry knew better where magic was concerned and stayed ready for an attack. The old man smiled as if amused by Harry before bowing.

"Greetings young traveller, welcome to the House of Black and White. Please come in." The Old man said beckoning him inside in what seemed like a warm and friendly voice, appearing the very image of a kindly old man but with the mention of the buildings name Harry's guard went up. He knew of the Faceless Men and what they did, stealing the faces of others and killing people for money. He was about to turn around and walk away when both his dragon ring and the stone of resurrection began to glow. He looked towards the building and with his curiosity winning out he walked up to the door and followed the old man inside but his hand remained close to his sword just in case this was some kind of trap.

Walking through the strangely bland corridors did not exactly make Harry feel any better as the feeling of cold persisted. They did not pass anyone which made Harry wonder if the Faceless Ones were as numerous as many assumed, given their ability to don the faces of other people they could never truly be counted but he would have expected to see more of them of than this.

After a couple of minutes they arrived in a large cave for lack of a better word. It went high into the darkness but along its walls were what really captured his attention. In small alcoves all along the cave were preserved faces, looking almost like masks but if you looked closely you could see that they were made of real skin.

Horror ran through Harry, he had known of their ability to wear the faces of other people to disguise themselves but to see those preserved faces made him sick to his stomach. So much so when the Faceless Man who had invited him in spoke he actually drew his sword with the intention of running the old man through.

"Our work is not pleasant. Death never is nor is it fair. The Many Faced God teaches us this, after all we are No-One." The Kindly Old Man had changed into a much younger looking face while he had been distracted by the faces with clearer skin and straight light brown hair with a strip of white in it. He smiled and only the sudden change stopped Harry from attacking, fully aware that this Faceless Man was no doubt fully ready for it.

Gritting his teeth Harry cast his mind back to recall his steps so he could effect a quick getaway before turning back to the Faceless Man and asked him with a glare.

"Why did you bring me here? To take my face and use it?"

"No. The Many Faced God knows you, all of your selves as his instruments across the worlds. When he has need of you he arms you, the rings you wear for example." The Faceless Man said and Harry shocked that the Faceless Man knew these things about him glanced down to the Stone of Resurrection and then the Valyrian Dragon ring. He frowned and turned back to the Faceless Man with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I do not like being called an 'instrument' and why would he choose to use me? A second son, I am not even in line to inherit any real power." Harry said anger bubbling up inside him. He knew how much his counterpart in the other world had hated being 'the chosen one', losing his family in the process and many other people that he had cared for. He glared at the Faceless Man. "All I want is to travel, see the world. Power and destiny have no place in my life."

The Faceless Man did not frown or change his expression at all from the annoying mask of calm that he was wearing, he merely tilted his head and said.

"By all means continue to travel, the Many Faced God encourages it so that you can acquire the skills and resources that you will need in the future. But eventually you will return home and when war comes, you will need a castle and army of your own to fight it. The more power you obtain the better your chances in the struggle to come."

The mention of a war did sober Harry immediately, his grandmother had always told him that however bad or vicious the previous war might have been another was always around the corner often worst that the one that had preceded it. He had no idea where he was going to raise an army or find a castle of his own, a ruined one that he could rebuild perhaps. As if sensing his thoughts the Faceless Man said.

"Fate has a way of taking you where you need to be, keep your eyes and ears open and maybe the opportunities you need will reveal themselves. Think of it as a challenge for you to surmount."

Harry paused when the Faceless man said it that way, he loved a challenge a test of his wits and ability to solve problems. Then just as he was about to ask where he might go to start this quest the 'Many Faced God' wanted to send him on, he looked up to discover the Faceless Man was gone. Looking around Harry saw that he was now alone and was about to leave when a screech came from above him. Sharply looking up Harry was greeted by the sight of a large bird descending from the darkness above, it landed near the pool that Harry had missed when he was talking and turned its sharp green eyes to him.

Harry had never seen a bird look so intently at a human before, almost as if it were assessing him and he stared right back not looking away. It was then that he recognised the hawk in front of him, it was a Braavosi Blood Hawk. Named for its brilliant red and brown feathers they were said to have the sharpest eyes of any bird of prey in the world and could fly further and faster too. He had seen traders with such birds in Oldtown and wondered what it might be like to fly as they did, soaring through the air. Short of building a broom he would never really know that feeling unless he hatched a dragon.

As he stared into the hawk's eyes and the hawk stared right back, Harry felt his magic extend out to the Hawk and form a connection. He felt the hawk's instincts, its urge to be in the air and its confusion at the strange bond they now shared. Harry smiled and the hawk flew over and perched itself on his shoulder. Harry carefully stroked its plumage, the hawk cooed in response. It was a he Harry sensed and as he walked carefully back up the stairs he decided on a name for him.

"Orion. That will be your name, okay?" He asked the bird, the hawk nuzzled its head against his in agreement.

-x-

It was getting dark when Harry returned to his tent, he was glad that the wards he had set up were working as planned, leaving his abode hidden to outsiders. Walking in through the flap entrance he was greeted by a far larger space than the outside lit by bluebell flames in glass jars, a comfortable sofa and a few small cabinets containing books he either liked or thought might prove useful with rugs covering the floor. Charms heated the interior to a comfortable temperature and bubblehead charms meant that foul smells did not leak in from the outside. Orion flew from his shoulder to perch on top of a bookcase and settle down to sleep. Harry smiled vowing to get a proper perch for his new companion in the morning. Putting his feet up on the sofa he looked around to see the tent that would serve as his home for the next few years.

There were five rooms, the first of course being the sitting area where Harry was resting. A bedroom with a comfortable bed and cabinets containing his clothes while in the bathroom that was adjacent there was a sink to wash clothes, a privy and a bath tub all enhanced with magic to create and vanish warm water and waste at will. The Kitchen nearby had food stored in stasis to keep it preserved for when he could not resupply and lastly the storeroom where magically enhanced chests were piled to contain all of his valuables and anything else he might collect along the way. His dragon egg that he had pulled from the Mander was preserved in stasis there as well until he found a way to hatch it.

Stripping off his clothes and putting them in the bin for washing later, he climbed into bed and got some sleep, intent on resuming his exploration of the city in the morning.

-x-

The following day Harry enjoyed walking through the city and seeing all the sights that he had missed the previous day, but as darkness fell he began to feel slightly bored and so he visited the taverns of the city to seek some entertainment. Orion was quite content sleeping back at his tent on the wooden perch Harry had purchased for him after a big dinner of mice and rats. Harry had taken the precaution of purchasing some additional meat for Orion and placed it in stasis so his companion would always be fed.

Harry meanwhile was sitting at a table in a smoky tavern with eight other men all older than him by at least fifteen years who were already deep into their cups playing cards. The game was similar to poker and Harry smirking was enjoying every moment of it, as he had won nearly every hand and those he had lost were only to make a bigger pot for him to win in the next hand. Reading people was one of the most useful lessons his grandmother had taught him, the slight tensing of the shoulders when you were worried, a nervous twitch, confidence in their eyes when they had a good hand. She meant for him to use them in politics but in games like this they were a god's send. The ghost of Lann the Clever, possibly the greatest con artist in history and the founder of House Lannister had developed those skills further in lessons he had taken when summoning him.

Magic helped too by letting him feel their emotions when they made eye contact helpful to learn whether they were bluffing or not. The final advantage Harry had was that he unlike them did not drink while he was playing, so he at least could think clearly.

It was proving useful tonight as the small pouch of gold dragons he had started with was now far larger than any other pile on the table and there was more than that being bet. Some daggers and swords had been waged and now sat on his side of the table while the drunk men were so convinced that they could win back everything they had lost to this young upstart that they just kept going.

All to Harry's advantage.

Harry looked at his cards as he started to think about calling it a night, it was a good hand he thought the best a Royal Flush. Looking around he saw the rest of the men looking nervously at their own cards and a sweep of their surface feelings showed anxiety or just drunken confidence. Decided to end the game he upped his bet.

"Three hundred gold pieces and all the weapons here. Time to sort the men from the boys." He said pushing most of his winnings into the centre. Most of the other players just threw down their cards in frustration, not able to match his bet to stay in the game. The three that remained however took one look at their cards and he could see the sweat falling from their foreheads not a good sign boys Harry thought, sure that they would fold but their overconfidence won out and they all put the only items they had worth his bet forward.

"Six barrels full of dyes and all this." One merchant said putting a document of ownership and a small pile of coins in the pot. The old red faced sea captain then double checked his cards then he made his bet.

"My remaining coin." He said pushing a pile of coins into the pot before pulling a very nice crown from his pouch. "This crown too. Used to belong to a Westerosi queen till her son the beggar king sold it." He laughed at the last part but Harry looked at the delicate looking crown and widened as he saw the intricate craftsmanship that had gone into the small crown which was made of gold with tiny diamonds and sapphires. The mention of a Westerosi queen immediately made Harry suspect it might be a Targaryen crown, many had disappeared after the Sack of Kings Landing. So he looked intently into the sea captain's eyes and saw he had a pair of jacks.

Confident his hand was secure Harry turned to the last man who was sweating profusely and with a final sigh of frustration he threw his cards away and took what possessions he had left with his tattered pride.

Good man Harry thought, better to give up than lose everything.

Then he watched as the sea captain and the merchant put their cards down on the table both confident of victory. The merchant was shocked to see his cards beaten by the two a pair the captain had but the captain was shocked as Harry with a wide smirk on his face put his Royal Flush on the table. Cries of both anger and celebration ran through the building as men who had been betting on the game either won big by betting on him or lost by siding with the other players. So many men were drunk that fists were thrown and bottles smashed against heads in a flash, Harry quickly pushed his winnings into a magical pouch while everyone was distracted, elbowing the merchant who tried to grab some of it then kicking the sea captain in the balls when he too tried to steal of his money back. No one even noticed that Harry had swept all the money left on table into a small bag before he ran as fast as he could for the door.

He narrowly avoided a sword being swung near him and then rolled past two men wrestling to slip out of the door before the city's guards came to restore order. Good pickings Harry thought as he tied the pouch to his belt and walked a short distance to find a place where he could apparate back to his tent.

The night air was crisp and refreshing and the much quieter city was a balm after the smoky filled noisy tavern. He took a deep breath as he walked along the canal, feeling far better although he kept himself alert just in case some thug decided to try and rob him. Even in the most affluent city Harry had ever seen there was crime and it never hurt to be alert to such things.

However it seemed the criminals of the city had taken the night off or found things to do elsewhere as no one accosted Harry. Just as he was about to duck into the alley nearby when the calm and quiet night was disturbed by yelling and a sound of frantic splashing. Harry looked around for the source of the noise and it did not take him long to see it was coming from across the nearby bridge.

A group of thugs were holding two young men not much older than himself in the canal trying to drown them in the dirty water while an older man looked on. Without thinking Harry drew his sword and ran across the bridge towards the trouble.

"HEY!" Harry called out to the thugs to get the attention of the thugs, it worked as they looked up and without even thinking they drew their weapons and charged at him, leaving the two young men chance to get some much needed air. Harry did not stop running his mind already focused as he sidestepped to avoid a jab that would have impaled his stomach and slashed at the man's leg with Orphanmaker. The man cried out and dropped his sword before Harry thrust into the shoulder of another thug causing him to drop his own sword.

With two down and now limping away, Harry turned to the remaining thugs who looked far less confident given how easily he had dispatched two of them. Harry held his sword ready should any of them think to charge him. One was wielding a sword like his but from the nicks and scratches in the metal Harry could tell it was old and worn, it did not stop the wielder an old greasy haired sellsword by the look of him charging. Harry did not even have to think, side stepping the sellsword and kicking him in the back of the knee as he passed. The splash as he entered the canal was enough for Harry to turn at the other thugs who all took flight followed by the rich looking man who presumably had hired them, the injured men limbed away with what little pride that they had left leaving Harry alone with the two young men who nearly been drowned only moments ago. One the taller of the two was already running away while the other on all fours was still struggling to catch his breath, he was a soaked and his dark hair hung around his face preventing Harry from making out his face.

"Are you okay? Do you need a healer?" Harry asked wondering if he had been injured but the young man just got unsteadily to his feet and pushed his wet hair back to reveal a dazzling smile.

"Not at all, it takes far more than a little water to make me ill. Danolo Whitehelm, at your service." The young man said sticking out his hand for Harry to shake who raised an eyebrow wondering if he had a concussion before taking the offered hand. Danolo still smiling talked as though everything in the world was sunshine and roses. "Thank you for your assistance, please allow me the privilege of shelter tonight. My family has a manse nearby and we would be honoured to offer you food at our table. Come." Danolo said and beamed expectantly at Harry would was about to wave the incident off and part ways with the young man but considering the thugs might ambush him Harry gave a quiet sigh and said.

"I suppose I should ensure you reach home safely at least, just in case those thugs come back."

The expected ambush never came as Harry and his new 'friend' made their way through the quiet streets. Danolo was an avid talker, going on about his mother Orolantia, the former Silken Nightingale the most sought after courtesan or whore as some would call it in the city. Only the richest in Braavos could have afforded her services and her family was wealthy because of it, the way Danolo boasted reminded Harry a bit of Loras with his annoying pride but he was even more of a talker than Harry's brother any day of the week. It was grating on Harry's nerves and he was about to leave the irritating Braavosi to his fate when thankfully they arrived at the Whitehelm manse.

It was a large enough place Harry thought and looked suitably grand to project a sense of wealth but smaller than the larger homes in the city. Danolo knocked on the door and yelled out while still smirking from ear to ear.

"Open up! I'm home with a guest." Harry was already thinking of polite excuses he might use to escape Danolo's presence but the door opened with his knock. The smile was wiped from Danolo's face and Harry went for his sword. Slowly the two young men entered the manse with their guard up, ready for any potential ambush.

They crept forward, the only sound their own breathing until they reached what could be described as the main hall were they heard voices. Moving as quietly as they could Danolo and Harry went to the door and saw through a narrow gap that a lavishly dressed man was holding a younger boy that looked like Danolo by the throat while shouting at another boy, a woman that Harry presumed to be their mother and young girl dressed like a servant.

It was too much for Danolo who burst through the doors, leaving an annoyed Harry to follow him with sword in hand.

"Leave my family alone Tremolo!" Danolo yelled at the man holding what Harry presumed to be his younger brother by the throat. Everyone turned to look at them and Harry could now see more clearly, both of the other boys in the room were clearly related to Danolo, slightly shorter but they had the same hair, eyes, facial shape and build as he. The older women who Harry had to admit was still very striking despite being in her forties at least, clearly the boy's mother as they shared her eyes the same of light blue that bordered on grey.

The young maid and an older man with a well-trimmed grey beard stood in the corner, his robes were very well made, probably silks with golden embroidery. The young maid was a beautiful girl Harry thought if a bit young, once she was older she would surely be stunning.

But Harry's eyes focused on the older man in the centre of the room that Danolo called Tremolo, who just dropped the young boy when he turned to face them. He was a rich man, the elaborate silk clothes he wore with golden embellishments and gilded sword were proof of that, his iron grey hair was styled and eyes were more yellow than gold making Harry think immediately of a snake for some reason. Instinctively he tightened his hold on his sword and vowed not to turn his back on him.

Tremolo glared at Danolo who was either too foolish to back away or so angry he simply did not care.

"You owe me a considerable amount of money boy, if you will not pay it back then I must find restitution elsewhere." Tremolo said and his eyes wandered to the older woman who recoiled visibly away from him. Danolo turned a very impressive shade of red that would surely have had steam coming out of his ears if such a thing was possible and then he said something truly stupid.

"I declare a Trail of the Sealord! And I name Harry here as my champion!" He said quickly not realising what he had said until it was too late. Harry was confused as to what the 'Trial of the Sealord' was, but the look of horror on the faces of the Whitehelms and the young maid did not make Harry feel any better.

Tremolo however while taken aback for a second looked Harry over and dismissed him with a mere glimpse and smirked saying with great relish.

"Accepted, we shall do it at noon tomorrow. I trust Master Saldaaris will make the arrangements." He said looking at the other man in the room who nodded reluctantly and quickly left the room with Tremolo following him. There was silence for a minute as everyone took in what had just happened, broken only by the doors closing as the other two men left. The first to recover was the Whitehelm matriarch who walked over to her eldest son and slapped him on the face.

"YOU IDIOT!" She screamed at Danolo who recoiled from his mother's wrath. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU HAVE DOOMED ALL OF US! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" She shouted at him. Danolo put his hand up and stepped away from his mother.

"I didn't think he would accept! I just thought it might make him think twice!" Danolo told her rather feebly. His mother and brother looked ready to tear him apart when Harry decided to speak.

"Far from me to interrupt Danolo from getting a scolding." Harry said putting is sword back in its sheath while glaring at Danolo, firmly wishing he had just let those thugs drown the twat now. "But could someone explain to me what the hell a 'Trial by the Sealord' is? Especially if I have apparently been named as a champion."

The Whitehelm matriarch gave one last glare at Danolo before turning to the young man that had accompanied him. She gave Harry a kind smile but Harry could see the cunning inside that had propelled her to become the most sought after courtesan in Braavos. She honestly reminded Harry of his grandmother in some ways, she was sharp and ruled her family with an iron fist. He had a feeling the two women would get on well together if they ever met.

"I apologize for my son getting you involved in our affairs young man, but now it seems we are all on the same sinking ship. I am Orolantia Whitehelm." She said introduced and Harry bowed slightly in greeting kissing her offered hand while she introduced the rest of her family. "These are my two younger sons Invichio and Tristifero." Orolantia said with fondness. The two other boys nodded in greeting while Invichio glared at his older brother. "And this is Serah, my protégée." She said gesturing to the young maid who curtsied to Harry and he smiled before bowing in return.

"Harry Tyrell." He said deciding that anyone could probably uncover his true identity if they wanted to so it made little sense to hide it. Besides, if it ever reached Highgarden he would be long gone before anyone from there could get to Braavos. Their eyes widened at his surname, knowing full well who his family were. But before they could comment on it Harry spoke again. "I am merely here as the first part of my travels, no official business I assure you but perhaps you might explain to me exactly what it is Danolo has volunteered me for?" Harry asked, the word champion implied a fight of some kind but what was this trial?

It was Invichio Whitehelm that answered. The younger boy looked grim as he explained.

"The Trial of the Sealord goes back to the days when Braavos was founded by escaping slaves. Back then the founders of Braavos had little and if someone had an issue with someone they would fight and winner would claim the spoils. As the city grew it fell out of favour and remained only used by the rich men in the city, they would choose a champion and the two fighters would battle to the death. The winning man would then take all the assets of the loser, it was eventually stopped by the Iron Bank due to the economic chaos it caused when men inherited assets they could not operate and the rampant cheating by those that would declare it but although its use was frowned upon it was never banned. This will be the first time it has been used in over a century." The boy explained and just as it dawned on Harry just what Danolo had signed him up for he glared at the idiot, ready to kill the twat right there and then.

"And you cannot run away either." Invichio added feeling a massive migraine coming on. "Once declared it cannot be revoked and if either we or you run away then the Iron Bank will hunt all of us down and kill us…slowly. It is part of how they discourage its use."

Harry could no longer keep his anger in check as it boiled up inside him, his fist hit Danolo and knocked him to floor. He stood over him, nearly shaking in rage.

"I should have let you drown in the canal you arse!" Harry said his voice hissing like the snakes his other self-had talked too. He counted to twenty and turned to Lady Orolantia. "Do we have any idea who I will be facing? I need to know just what I am up against." He was not stupid enough to try running, the long shadow of the Iron Bank would find him eventually and he could not allow the rest of the Whitehelms to suffer for the actions of their idiot son. His own compassion and code of honour would never permit it.

Lady Orolantia thought for a moment and then sighed as she told him.

"He recently acquired a former pit fighter from Astapor. He might have publically freed the man and made him a sellsword in his service but he is a slave in all but name. Conditioned to follow orders and will kill on command without any doubt or hesitation."

Harry honestly felt sick, he had could not believe that one simple act could have landed him in such a situation. His grandmother had warned him about getting involved in things that did not concern him as they would often come back to haunt him. But he like a fool had never heeded her advice, his alternate's friend…Hermione called it something Harry thought. What was it?

'A Saving People' thing he recalled. That was it.

Harry just put his hand to his face and sighed. Lady Orolantia put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed in reassurance before saying.

"Take a room here tonight, you deserve that much for what you are going to have to do tomorrow. Get some rest you will need it."

-x-

His room was comfortable but Harry could not sleep. He lay in his bed wondering about what he was going to face tomorrow. He had never fought anyone in a fight to the death before, never fought in a battle and now he was going to fight a man in a duel to the death. He considered the possibly the Whitehelms might be lying but all through their talk he had sensed nothing but the truth from them. So here he was about to fight for people he barely knew or he could run and be hunted down like an animal. Not the best of options he thought with frustration.

Harry lay back on his bed and felt the worst kind of anticipation welling up inside him. He had never felt anything like it, a cold sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that would not be shifted. Sleep proved impossible as images of what could happen ran through his mind. Groaning he say up and pulled the Resurrection Stone from his finger and turned it over three times desperate for some advice that might help.

His teacher in swordsmanship, Ser Aemon Targaryen the legendary Dragon Knight appeared in the room. He smiled at first but then saw the expression on his young student's face.

"What is wrong young Harry? You look as though the world is ending." The old knight might have passed on but he had developed a soft spot for the young Tyrell. He was as determined as he had been and had a natural talent with the sword. Jousting was a different story as Harry had little interest in the sport but in the art of swordplay he was a kindred spirit.

"Through a series of rather convoluted events I have ended up as champion for a Braavosi family against their rival in a fight to the death. If I run the Iron Bank will have me hunted down and killed and I will be up against a trained pit fighter who is experienced at killing." Harry said to his ghostly mentor with fear starting appear in his voice.

Fear was something that he had never really dealt with before, his own arrogance although he would call it confidence made him laugh instead but now he was faced with the very real possibility that he might die and he had no idea of how to handle it. Images of him choking on his own blood or his damaged corpse being cried over by his sister and grandmother were rushing through his mind.

Ser Aemon smiled sadly at the boy, he had known this fear himself from his first battle in the Conquest of Dorne. The savagery of battle had shocked him at first but nothing compared with facing men that genuinely wanted to kill him and having to kill in turn. The blood and gore of killing men and the light that left their eyes. It was not something that you could teach someone about, you have to experience it for yourself.

"Death is natural part of life, everyone dies eventually but whether or not it will be you tomorrow is your own choice." Ser Aemon told him making Harry look up from his feet to meet the knight's gaze. "It is like the 'law of the jungle' I believe a man once said. Survival of the fittest or the smartest, would you rather give your life so this other champion can live?" Ser Aemon asked his gaze intense.

Harry looked back down at his feet, he knew what his answer was going to be and it sickened him.

"No."

"Then your decision is made, it may sicken you but it is kill or be killed. Either you kill him or he will kill you. For your family, for yourself and your friends do what you must to survive." Ser Aemon said before his ghost vanished, leaving Harry just as confused as before but at least he now if he had to fight he would fight to win.

Sun rose all to soon the following morning, a hearty breakfast at the Whitehelm table and a quick spar with their boys was all Harry had time for as he donned his leather armour and walked with his new friends to the square in front of the Iron Bank. Word it seemed had spread and many of the city's rich and poor had gathered to see the spectacle, it honestly made Harry sick. Killing as entertainment, fill people with that kind of bloodlust and this would become a regular event with the rich profiting off it while the rest cheered as men lay dying for their pleasure. Harry was glad such things had not caught on in Westeros but he would have to harden himself.

Nearing the centre of the square he saw Tremolo and his champion already waiting for him. The sight of the other champion did not make Harry feel any better, he was nearly two feet taller than him with muscles to match. His face was covered by a spiked helm and he wore little in the way of armour just basic leather but Harry's eyes were drawn to the large black steel battle-axe the man was holding in his hands and the great sword wore on his back. The Whitehelms were similarly alarmed at the size of him but said nothing, instead giving him encouraging smiles that were rather weak but still it was better than nothing.

"Good luck." Invichio Whitehelm said as he saw off the man that held the future of his family in his hands. He could only look nervously at the man Harry would be facing and glad that it would not be him.

"Luck." Harry said stiffly. "I need a miracle."

Harry feeling more nervous than he ever had in his entire life stepped forward into the centre of the makeshift fighting rink while everyone around them watched, eager for the duel to begin. Harry drew Orphanmaker and its weight was comforting in his hands, he looked at the large warrior that was disturbingly completely silent except for his breathing which rattled inside the helm he wore and planned how he was going to fight him.

He could try and use his speed Harry thought as the warrior would pummel him if he tried to match him in strength. His magic he realised with anger would not really be that helpful as he could not dare use it with all of these witnesses. He knew some Braavosi water dance moves from his time at Hightower as it was always helpful to have some tricks up his sleeve, but he could not think any more on how he was going to fight as the warrior charged, swinging his battle-axe hard towards him in the hopes of cutting Harry in half.

Shocked at the sudden start Harry barely managed to dive out of the way as the axe actually split the stone paving where he had been only a couple of seconds before. Harry without thinking slashed back and caught the warrior on the arm as he tried to pull his axe free of the stone it had become embedded in. The warrior did not even cry out as blood leaked out of the shallow wound but it only served to enrage him as he finally pulled the axe free and attacked again.

Harry was forced to constantly keep moving as the warrior's axe swung sometimes only a hair's breadth from him. He had no time to think of attacking as he had to concentrate on evasion or he would be dead in a second. Just as he narrowly missed the axe severing his head from his shoulders the warrior kicked him right in the stomach, sending flying back gasping for breath as the air was knocked clean out of him. He rolled to his feet and recovered as quickly as he could only for the warrior to be on him again immediately.

Harry rolled away and slashed again with his sword, missing as the warrior proved to be as fast as he was strong and Harry was repaid for his effort by a punch that hit him on the shoulder. The pain nearly made him drop his sword but he managed to keep hold of it and attack again, catching the warrior in the right elbow but the warrior shrugged it off and kept attacking while a cheering crowd, a smirking Tremolo and the scared Whitehelms looked on.

-x-

Unknown to Harry on the roof of the Iron Bank a man perched with his bow in hand trying to get a shot at Harry, ironically the fast and erratic pace of the fight was making it impossible for him to get an accurate shot. The archer had been hired by Tremolo to ensure the Westerosi died if at any time his champion looked at any time like he might lose, after all one did not become as wealthy as Tremolo without taking precautions.

The jangle of the coins in his pouch was like music to his ear but it was being masked by the growls of frustration at not being able to make the shot. He was one of the best marksmen in all of Braavos and was well paid for his services but nothing he tried seemed to help.

He was so focused on this that he did not see the large blood hawk until a moment the hawk swooped in to attack, its screech as the sharp talons caught him straight in the back of the head with surprising force, sending him a step forward and over the edge. He screamed in the brief moment before his body hit the steps of the Iron Bank, distracting everyone who saw it…including the champion of Tremolo.

-x-

Harry now with several very prominent bruises, breathing heavily and had a few cuts seized his chance, thrusting Orphanmaker straight into champion's gut. The warrior howled in pain as Harry pulled his sword out and he desperately tried to straight at Harry but now he had a massive hole in his stomach and blood was seeping out at an alarming rate. His body was slowing quickly as Harry ducked around him and stabbed his sword at the warrior's joints, forcing him to his knees as the axe fell from his hands.

Harry with one last great slash, cleaved the warrior's head from his shoulders. The severed head rolled away as Harry breathed heavily nearly falling to his knees as exhaustion took hold. Adrenaline had sustained him in the fight but now it was fading and all of his aches and wounds were starting to really hurt. If he learnt one thing from this Harry thought to himself it was to make sure that he had prepared in every single way possible in future, if he had more appropriate weapons before he came here like short swords or a daggers he might have found it far easier in such close quarters. If he had researched his opponent in more detail he could have evolved a better strategy he would not make such mistakes again.

He did not notice the crowd at first, they had been silent for a split second but now were cheering like mad people. Harry did not share their joy however as he looked down on the headless corpse of the warrior and the massive pool of blood. It honestly made him sick to his stomach, the man had been raised a slave never had any choice in this. Knowing no life other than one it chains but at least he might find solace in the next world Harry thought with some small comfort.

What really got to him however was the cheering of the crowd, he honestly wanted to slap them all and yell until his voice was hoarse but instead he allowed the Whitehelms to help him back to their manse where he might finally get some peace. Danolo made himself useful by carrying the helm, battle-axe, great sword and Tremolo's guilded small sword in a bundle for Harry to take later or if Harry did not want them Danolo would quite happily take for himself. Tremolo was dragged off by the men of the Iron Bank who had questions to ask him about the archer who had fallen from the roof.

-x-

"Does it have to be that tight?" Harry groaned as the healer wrapped the wounds he had sustained in the fight. He was by no means a weakling but the sharp stab of pain as the bandages were first tightened and the dull persistent ache that followed was enough to make him wince. The healer just smirked at him.

"You were lucky young ser, only bruises and a slight concussion. It is lucky to leave such a duel with your life, many do not." The healer said before taking his leave. This left Harry alone with the Whitehelms who were now smiling themselves at the young man that had risked his life for them.

"You were amazing." Tristifero said with wide eyes gleaming, star struck and wishing he might be a great warrior too. Harry could not help but give the young boy a smile back.

"Our future is assured, all the money and assets that Tremolo owned are now ours. With the extra money I can buy up more taverns and brothels around Braavos to extend our information network and influence. We can invest in commercial ventures, thanks to you." Invichio said his own eyes bright with the possibilities now available to him and his family. But he did have the good grace to look gratefully at Harry as he pulled on a plain leather tunic.

"Will you stay in Braavos to operate your share? If so I would think you, Invichio and I have a lot to discuss." Orolantia said sipping her wine, her posture now far more relaxed than it had been for the past few days. Harry looked at her confused before she explained. "As the champion you get at least a portion of the assets gained in the trial. You didn't think these people risked their lives for nothing did you?" She smirked taking a small amount of enjoyment in his surprise, wondering if he might be a good business partner.

Harry was momentarily stunned, he had not imagined that he might profit from this stupid system he had been more concerned with whether or not he would make it through alive. But he thought with reluctance it would chain him to Braavos, he had only just started his travels and he did not want to be chained down yet regardless of what the Faceless Men had said. But still he thought an income of some sort would be useful.

He did not have time to think any more on this because Serah walked in and introduced a visitor.

"Tycho Nestoris of the Iron Bank." She said as the man from earlier arrived in the room with a box of papers under his arm.

"Lady Orolantia, good evening. I trust these will be to your satisfaction. Although I should probably inform you that the Iron Bank and the First Sea Lord have now made the Trial of the Sealord illegal so this will be the last time this sort of thing happens." He said bowing ever so slightly to the lady of the house before placing the box on the table. Orolantia smiled and gave him a cheeky wink that only made Tycho smirk and her sons gag. Harry nearly laughed but instead walked over to join Lady Orolantia as she looked at the papers held in the box. Both of their eyes widened at the scale of the merchant's assets, not the richest man in Braavos but certainly very wealthy all the same.

Harry pondered on what to do when he had an idea about what to do with his share; Orolantia and her son Invichio seemed sharp enough to make something of their new assets. He would admit to having taken a liking to them and on some level trusted them. So he told Orolantia what he planned to do.

"Lady Orolantia, I hope if it is not too much trouble that I might transfer control of my share of the assets to you and your sons in return for a portion of the profits to be paid into a vault at the Iron Bank. Say ten percent?" He suggested causing all of them even Orolantia to blink at him in surprise. It was a small fortune he was giving up here when he could well demand far more but Harry was not a greedy person by nature and this way he could make money without having to do a thing himself while continuing to travel. "I have every confident that you and your family will manage these affairs professionally and justify my trust. This will surely be a most profitable venture." He was now smirking as he saw the astonishment on their faces but Invichio was soon smiling and he rushed forward to shake a bemused Harry's hand.

"Do not worry, we will make good on your investment. This is the beginning of a great partnership." Harry shook his hand right back, Invichio knew full well that his family would become very wealthy and powerful for this and here was Harry giving him and his family majority control. What was there to complain about? It was a dream deal for them.

Harry meanwhile was thinking on what the Faceless man had said, about him needing an army for some future war. This was a start. He might only be a second son and a rogue second son at that with only a famous sword and magical tent to his name but now he had a source of income and a good contact in Braavos, his grandmother had always told him that although you should never trust anyone more than you had too unless you had something on them, friends in the right places were worth their weight in gold.

Later that night when Harry had retired to bed and was alone in the room the Whitehelms had graciously given him, he used his magic to heal some of his wounds. Tycho had promised to speed up the setting up of his deal with Whitehelms immediately helped in no small part by Orolantia's offer of dinner the following evening so as soon as that was done he would be leaving Braavos. If he needed to he could of course now portkey himself back here but he was starting to get itchy feet and wanted to continue his travels. He planned to catch the first ship that would take him, wherever it was going as long as it was not to Westeros.

A knock at the door made Harry quickly pull his jerkin back on and walk quickly over to open it, only for his breath to be taken away when he cast his eyes on the most beautiful blonde woman he had ever seen. Standing only just a bit shorter than him and looking slightly older, her golden hair was shining and luscious enough to put a Lannister to shame flowing free and unadorned down her back all the way to her pert little bottom. Her gown was sheer and left no illusion as to the pleasing curves that lay beneath. Harry's eyes moved up her body to her face passing her considerably sized breasts before coming to rest on her face. It was shaped almost like a heart with soft and delicate cheekbones, not to mention her tempting red coloured mouth but her eyes held his attention, a very distinctive aquamarine colour. Behind the girl Orolantia appeared and smiled.

"After all you have done for my house, I think you deserve a reward. Lanna here is my best girl, have fun tonight." She said with a lustful grin before closing the door leaving Harry and Lanna alone. The air suddenly became very tense as they regarded each other. Lanna despite her profession was blushing as she looked at Harry. He was perhaps the most handsome man she had ever been introduced to. His hair was a deep chestnut that was cut at the shoulders with strange green eyes that seemed hypnotise her, unable to look away. His body she could see was lean and fit with firm muscles, built for a deadly combination of speed and strength.

Harry frowned having never been with a whore before, he was not squeamish about it he knew full well about their existence and how many girls had no choice but to sell themselves to keep themselves from starving. Physically he might have never had a woman before but mentally he was more than prepared, the memories of his alternate had shown him all of their 'activities'. They had been quite inventive in the bedroom driven largely by Ginny's passion. That Harry had learnt what made his wife tick and how to please a woman.

But this particular Harry had never used them before and he was eager to test them out. He shrugged off his tunic and breeches while she shrugged off her dress, leaving them both as naked as the day they were born. The atmosphere was very tense as they looked at each other, not sure as to who should take the first move.

-Lemon Start-

Harry then moved forward and pulled her into a fierce kiss, she immediately responded by kissing back for all she was worth, her mouth opening so her tongue could meet his in a battle for dominance. His arms tightened around her thin waist while hers went around his shoulders, her fingers playing with his hair as they continued kissing breaking only for air before continuing.

His fingers began to move like ghosts over her skin exciting her already trembling body, his mouth leaving hers only to stop her disappointment by gently teasing her nipples. He guided her steps without thinking about it to the bed were she fell backwards onto the cool sheets. His mouth moved down to her belly bottom and gently teased it while his hands caressed her breasts and left her a quaking mess.

Lanna had never experienced anything like this before, her clients had always used her to serve their own pleasure and used her to that effect. This man however was attending to her pleasure first, her legs were already unable to support her weight and as his head disappeared between her legs she could only whimper as pleasure rippled through her body. The rising pleasure inside her washed over her like a wave as his tongue drove her to heights of pleasure she had not known, wherever he had learned this technique she could not have imagined but it sure felt good.

She barely had time to catch her breath before his mouth was on hers, she could taste herself on his lips but it did not bother her as his tongue plundered her mouth. She could feel his hardness at her cunt and anticipation filled her as she managed to look down and see his impressive size and it scared her for a moment that soon that cock would be inside her. He was gentle though, rather than just thrust into her like a callous youth he slowly pushed inside her until he was fully sheathed inside her. He stopped for a moment so she could adjust before he began to pull out and then push back in again.

-Lemon end-

-x-

The sunlight crept into the room slowly as dawn came. Lanna lay with her head on Harry's chest and their legs intertwined. She was still fast asleep but Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked down at Lanna before smiling and carefully extracting himself from her, going to wash while she slept.

He had surprised himself at how long he had managed to keep going last night, it had been ages before he finally tired and let sleep claim him. Poor Lanna had barely kept up with him and they had indulged in many different positions before finally calling it a night.

He splashed cold water on his face as he looked out of the window at the harbour below. The sight of the ships gave him itchy feet, he would take the sea this time rather than magic and catch the first boat he could wherever it was heading, except if it was heading to Westeros of course he thought.

A big grin spread wider across his face as he contemplated where he might go next. Looking over he saw Lanna start to stir slightly and he walked over and placed a kiss on her forehead before tucking the sheets around her, letting her sleep.

-x-

Once he was dressed he walked down the stairs only to find Orion looking imperiously at him while chewing on some bacon. The bird then carried on with his breakfast, Harry just shook his head as he walked over and gently stroked the bird's earning a pleasant cooing for his actions.

"Good morning Harry. Would you like some breakfast?" Young Serah said with a wide smile, gently stroking the bird's plumage which made him coo in pleasure while giving him a superior look. Harry just shook his head and thought 'cheeky bird' before answering the young girl.

"Yes please Serah. After the events of yesterday I could use a good hearty breakfast." He smiled at her and the young girl just gave him a knowing smirk, knowing full well what he had been up to last night. She went to get some food from the kitchen for him while he went over to the main table in the small hall of the Whitehelm manse. They would soon he thought probably be moving to the larger manse previous owned by Tremolo given their new found wealth. The Lady of the House and her three sons were all sitting around enjoying their first meal. The three boys looked up and smiled brightly while Orolantia gave him a grin.

"Good morning, I trust you had an enjoyable night." Orolantia said with assurance and a glint in her eye, Harry returned the grin and gave a slight bow before taking a seat.

"A very…stimulating night Lady Orolantia, I thank you for arranging it." He told her and she rolled her eyes wondering if he was all talk like so many young men his age or if there was a chance he might be able to go the distance. Judging by all the sounds she and the servants had heard last night he might she realised with some hesitation be up to the mark. Shaking her head slightly as she dismissed those thoughts for another time as she pushed a small key tied to a piece of parchment towards him.

"This is the deed to your share of our new enterprise and the key to your vault in the Iron Bank. It arrived just a few minutes ago." She said with a smile glad to have the increase of affluence, Harry raised an eyebrow while taking the scroll and key.

"It was settled that quickly? In less than a night?" He would have thought that such a thing would take at least a few days to sort out. Orolantia just gave a carefree shrug.

"Tycho is an exceptionally fast administrator. He knows all the tricks to get such things expedited as soon as possible." Orolantia said, he was also she admitted the one man that she actually had to work for. He knew her sort of games and played them just as well as she. He was a wealthy man in his own right and a marriage between them would she thought be helpful to her family. Not to mention she might actually have a worthwhile man at her side for the first time since her sons had been born.

Harry however was obvious to her plans as he carefully read the scroll and determined things had been done as he had suggested. Now that it was done Harry was free to leave Braavos and continue his travels, anticipation filled him as he wondered where the winds could take him.

"Thank you Lady Orolantia, your hospitality has been most welcome during my brief time here. I shall impress on you no further though, I shall be leaving the city soon and continuing my travels." Harry said hoping not to offend them. They all did look shocked but although Orolantia and Invichio nodded in acceptance, Danolo looked ready to object only for his youngest brother to beat him too it.

"Why Harry, have we offended you?" Tristifero asked with slight hurt in his eyes, he had grown to like the older boy and wanted to spend more time with him. Neither of his older brothers seemed to either want to or have the time with Danolo off having fun of his own and Invichio helping mother run their family's holdings.

Harry instantly felt bad, he knew full well what it was like to be ignored like Tristifero his alternate had been either scorned or ignored by the Dursleys his entire life. His own father and mother had doted on Loras while often forgetting him in this world, his grandmother had more than made up for it but the hurt was still there. With that in mind he spoke kindly to Tristifero.

"Not at all." Harry said coming over to put a comforting hand on Tristifero's shoulder. "Your family have been the best hosts possible…for the most part." Harry said casting his eyes over to Danolo who suddenly became very embarrassed much to the humour of the rest of his family. "But I have to move on before my oaf of a father comes looking for me, I had to leave due to a major political blunder he was about to make regarding me and a marriage to a very old widow that could alienate a key ally of ours. Perhaps your brothers and you can now have the fun you so deserve with Tremolo gone." He said looking to both the indicated boys who looked briefly ashamed for not spending as much time with their little brother as they could, promising to themselves to make that right. Serah then came in with some breakfast; bacon, eggs and slices of toasted bread with a cup of water to drink.

Sitting down to his food, Harry took his water and gave a brief toast, which was echoed by the Whitehelms.

"To the Future!" He said proudly.

"To the Future!" They chanted back before they all took a sip.

-x-

Gathering his tent in his bag, now stowed with the weapons of the Champion he had slain and Tremolo's ornate sword not to mention all his winnings from the taverns the night he had become involved in Whitehelm affairs, Harry gave a finally wave goodbye to the Whitehelms and walked down to the city's many docks.

It was only just reaching mid-day when Harry arrived and saw the sheer number of ships docked here. It was colossal Harry thought with awe, there must have been nearly two hundred ships here and it would be just stupid to try and talk to every captain to find out where they were going and if he might book passage so instead Harry sought out the harbour master. A few silver coins and man was only too happy to tell him where he might find passage from the city.

"The Sun Sea Dancer is heading to Lorath on the next tide and the captain is looking for passengers." The man told him with greedy eyes as he looked at the silver coins which Harry dropped into his sweaty hands. "That berth over there." He said pointing a short way down the docks.

"Thank you." Harry said with a slight sarcasm not that the man would have noticed and walked down towards the ship in question. She was a carrack, Harry realised from the three large masts that rose from the deck. Her figure head was that of a lady in some sort of dancing outfit although whatever colour it might have once had was long eroded by the sea. It had good sized cargo holds with a strong sturdy hull for long voyages. He could certainly do worst Harry thought as he looked along the dry dock. Men were readying the ship to sail so if he was going to use this ship then he would have to see the captain right away, looking at the deck he saw a man wearing the hard leather of a sailor but was of slightly better quality than the rest of the crew. Hoping this was the captain Harry walked up the gangplank catching the attention of all the men who looked surprised at the practically but well-dressed young man that had just invited himself on their ship.

"Would you be the captain?" Harry shouted to the man standing next to the helm. The older man with a tanned complexion and grey eyes looked down at Harry with suspicion before answering.

"Aye, that is me. What do you want?" He said his voice deep and rough. Harry was not afraid or intimidated. He had seen such men before in Oldtown when captains had come before Lord Hightower and knew they valued coin above near all else.

"I hope to book passage to Lorath since I was told that is where you are heading. Nothing more, nothing less." Harry said decided to be blunt, these men did not appreciate being talked down to or chatter. Straight forward and to the point.

The captain seemed to think about it for a moment, looking Harry up and down before giving a toothy smirk.

"Twenty gold pieces and you have to earn your meals with hard work. This is not a pleasure cruise, not like you are used to." The captain smiled expecting Harry realised for him to balk at this, so he merely nodded and pulled the required coin from the bottomless pouch on his belt. The captain stared in surprise as the coins were put into his hand.

A loud throaty laugh made both men turn around to see the source of the sound. It was a well-dressed man with the dark skin of the Summer Isles and long white hair tied in a knot behind his head. He wore an impressive looking green and orange feather cloak and a large number of gold rings on his fingers, on his back was an impressive looking bow and quiver full of arrows.

"Good to have some company on this boat. Other than sailors!" The man said with a wide grin as he walked over to Harry and offering his hand. Harry took it and felt the roughness of a lifelong archer and someone that worked for his living, this man was no pampered noble Harry thought especially given his strong grip as they shook hands. "Balaq, fellow passenger." He introduced himself, his accent smooth and relaxed Harry with its easy going nature.

"Harry." Harry said returning the gesture as the ship cast off and the sails lowered.

From the bow Harry and Balaq watched as the ship set to sea, Harry wondering just what his destination had in store for him.

Highgarden, the Reach…

The angry yells and sound of cups being thrown was a strangely relaxing symphony for Olenna as she heard her oaf of a son raging at Harry's flight from Oldtown. Margaery looked confused at all the angry noises that her father was making so she went to her grandmother who she knew would understand what was going on.

"What is going on grandmother? Why is father so angry?" The wrinkled face of Olenna smiled as she turned to her young granddaughter's and said.

"Because sweetling your other brother Harry has shown he has more brains in his head that both your father and eldest brother put together and has quite possibly saved our house from destruction." Olenna told Margaery who looked at her not really understanding so with a small sigh Olenna handed her the letter Harry had sent her, vowing to intensify her granddaughter's training in playing the political games so she would not need things like this explained to her.

Dearest Grandmother,

First I hope you are well but although I had hoped to see you soon it was not to be when I heard of the nuptials planned for me by I assume father since you would not do something so foolish as to try and steal Ashford from House Rowan.

Surely you know as well as I that too many families still question our right to rule the Reach especially with the Targaryens now in exile, the actions of father during the rebellion such as claiming victory over Robert Baratheon when it was in fact Lord Randyll Tarly's achievement have not improved the situation and now he plans to insult the Rowans by stealing Ashford from under them once Lady Ashford dies by wedding her to me. This could well see the Rowans rise in revolt against us and if the Tarlys took advantage of the situation we might well join House Gardener in extinction as you no doubt realise so I thought it best to go travelling…for a few years at least. Robert Baratheon hates us and would not care if there was a revolt against us, so it is better to be safe than sorry.

Hopefully by the time I return the situation will have changed and the Rowans will have claimed Ashford and the matter will be closed. I will write when I can but it could be a few years before you see me again. Do not fear for me, I have prepared myself for this journey and will do my best to return when things are better.

Your loyal grandson,

Harry Tyrell

Margaery's eyes widened as she carefully read each line, word for word and realised just how truly dangerous what their father had tried to do was. Could it really have cost them Highgarden? Maybe ended their family for good? She shuddered at the thought and was suddenly very grateful that her brother had run away. It was better than the alternative.

Olenna meanwhile was thinking something else, she was grateful for Harry relieving her of the particular problem that Mace had created but he was she realised doing something that Tyrells rarely ever did…taking a wild gamble. On a whim and hoping for the best.

House Tyrell had always done its best to play it safe and would only really move on something when it was a sure thing. A example being when they sieged Storm's End until they knew for certain which side was going to win the war, not giving the Usurper any real reason to hate them enough to come after them even though they had sworn to the dragon. It meant that they might not gain as much as other houses but they were not as likely to lose much either.

The only person who might take risks in this family Olenna realised was herself and only when she was absolutely certain she was right. Harry seemed to have that too except he was far more impulsive than she had ever been. A different kind of Tyrell than had ever really been before, what would he do? She wondered as she snacked on some cheese. Would he be her house's greatest member or its destruction?