Chapter 14

Dany carefully adjusted the straps of Harry's armor, her fingers moving with practiced ease. The light of the early morning filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Harry stood still, watching her with a mixture of gratitude and admiration.

"You're getting good at this," Harry remarked, a smile playing on his lips.

Dany looked up, meeting his eyes with a soft smile of her own. "I've had plenty of practice," she replied. "We've been through a lot together."

Harry nodded, feeling a swell of affection for her. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You won't have to find out," Dany said firmly, securing the final piece of his armor. She stepped back, giving him an appraising look. "There. You're ready."

Harry glanced down at himself, feeling the familiar weight of the armor settle around him. "Thanks, Dany."

She nodded, her expression serious. "Remember, be careful out there. Jaime Lannister is no ordinary opponent."

"I know," Harry said, his voice steady. "But I have something he doesn't."

Dany raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Harry reached out, taking her hand in his. "You."

Dany's eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand. "Go show him what you're made of, Harry."

With one last look at her, Harry turned and made his way to the training grounds, ready to face whatever came next.

—

Harry stepped into the training grounds, Dany trailing behind him. The cool morning air was filled with anticipation as a sizable crowd had gathered. Among the onlookers were not just the Starks and their guests, but the entire royal family. King Robert's booming laughter could be heard even at a distance, and Queen Cersei stood beside him, her eyes flicking from one face to another with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

Prince Joffrey was nearby, wearing an expression of smug anticipation, no doubt looking forward to seeing Harry humiliated. Jaime Lannister, clad in his Kingsguard armor, stood in the center of the grounds, his golden hair catching the early sunlight. He twirled his sword with practiced ease, a confident smirk on his lips as he watched Harry approach.

Tyrion Lannister leaned against a post, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the scene. He gave Harry a slight nod, a silent wish of good luck. The tension was palpable as the spectators settled in, eager to witness the duel.

As Harry stepped onto the training grounds, the crowd's chatter hushed to a murmur. Dany gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, her presence a comforting anchor. Harry drew his sword, its blade gleaming in the light, and moved to face Jaime.

Jaime's eyes widened slightly as he took in the craftsmanship of Harry's weapon. "That's a fine sword you have there," Jaime commented, unable to hide his admiration. "Valyrian steel, I presume?"

Harry shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, it's Avalonian steel," he corrected. "The sword's name is Ignis."

Jaime turned to the King with a gleam in his eye. "Your Grace," he called out, his voice carrying over the training grounds. "How about a wager to make this duel more interesting? If Hadrian loses, he hands over his fine sword to the Royal Family. What do you say?"

Harry, his expression calm, stepped forward. "And if I win?"

Jaime's smile turned sly. "Name your prize, Peverell."

Harry glanced at Dany, then back at Jaime. "Your Majesty, if I emerge victorious in the upcoming battle, I ask that you bestow upon me the title of Lord of Moat Cailin, to govern and protect its lands in your name."

"May I ask why you desire control of a ruin like Moat Cailin?" King Robert inquired, skepticism evident in his tone.

Before Harry could respond, Ned Stark stepped forward, his demeanor earnest yet respectful.

"Your Majesty," he began, "Lord Peverell and I have been working diligently to refurbish Moat Cailin for the past three months. With your permission, I would like to advocate on behalf of Lord Peverell for the title of Lord of Moat Cailin."

The king's gaze shifted between Harry and Ned, contemplation crossing his features.

After a moment of silence, he nodded thoughtfully. "Very well, Ned. If Lord Peverell succeeds, Moat Cailin shall be his," King Robert declared, his decision finalizing the terms of the agreement.

As the tension thickened in the air, Harry and Jaime Lannister stepped forward, their eyes locked in a steely gaze. With swords drawn, they circled each other, each anticipating the other's move. The clash of steel echoed through the hall as their duel began, the sound reverberating like a thunderstorm. Sparks flew with each strike, their movements swift and precise. It was a battle not only of strength and skill but also of determination and resolve. As the confrontation intensified, the outcome remained uncertain, the fate of Moat Cailin hanging precariously in the balance with every swing of their blades.

With calculated precision, Harry danced around Jaime, his movements seemingly effortless as he parried each of Jaime's strikes with ease. He feigned vulnerability, allowing Jaime to believe he had the upper hand, all the while luring him into a false sense of confidence. With each exchange, Harry's strategy became clearer: to play on Jaime's pride and skill, tempting him to overextend himself. Jaime, emboldened by his perceived advantage, pressed forward with increasing aggression, unaware of the trap being set before him. As the duel continued, Harry's patience and cunning would soon reveal the true depths of his strategy, testing Jaime's resolve and ultimately determining the outcome of their confrontation.

Sensing Jaime's fatigue, Harry seized the opportunity to shift the momentum of the duel in his favor. With a sudden burst of speed and ferocity, he launched a relentless assault, catching Jaime off guard and forcing him to defend against a flurry of strikes. The onlookers gasped in astonishment as Harry's skill and agility seemed to reach new heights, his movements fluid and precise. Jaime, taken aback by the sudden reversal, struggled to keep pace, his weariness slowing his reactions. With each calculated strike, Harry's dominance became more evident, his strategy of luring Jaime into complacency now yielding its desired results. As the duel reached its climax, it was clear that Harry's tactical brilliance would be the deciding factor in the outcome, leaving Jaime and the onlookers stunned by the display of skill and strategy before them.

In the midst of the intense duel, King Robert's booming voice filled the stands as he cheered on Harry, his enthusiasm contagious among the spectators. His shouts of encouragement echoed through the hall, a testament to his support for the bold contender.

Meanwhile, Cersei and Joffrey watched with clenched jaws, their expressions a mix of frustration and disdain as they witnessed Jaime's struggle against Harry's unexpected prowess. Despite their silent fury, they could do nothing but watch as the tide of the duel turned against their favored champion. The atmosphere in the stands crackled with tension, each moment of the duel bringing forth a new wave of anticipation and apprehension for the outcome.

Jon, Robb, and Theon stood together, their expressions a mixture of amusement and pride as they watched their friend Harry outmaneuver the renowned Jaime Lannister. Smirks tugged at their lips as they exchanged knowing glances, silently reveling in Harry's display of skill and strategy. Meanwhile, Dany stood tall and regal, her eyes gleaming with pride as she observed her husband's masterful performance. With each deft move, Harry showcased not only his own prowess but also the strength and resilience of their alliance. Together, they watched with growing satisfaction as Harry made a spectacle of Jaime Lannister, his victory seeming more assured with each passing moment.

As Jaime, exhausted and desperate, made a final, reckless lunge, Harry seized the opportunity with precision timing. With a swift and calculated countermove, Harry deftly sidestepped Jaime's attack, leaving him off balance and vulnerable. In that fleeting moment, Harry saw his opening and capitalized on it with ruthless efficiency. With a swift, decisive strike, Harry's blade found its mark, delivering a decisive blow that sent Jaime staggering backward, his sword falling from his grasp. The onlookers gasped in disbelief as Harry stood triumphant, his victory secured through cunning and skill. Meanwhile, Jaime, defeated and humbled, could only watch in disbelief as Harry emerged victorious, his desperate move ultimately leading to his downfall.

With Jaime now disarmed and defeated, Harry approached him with a mixture of respect and triumph evident in his expression.

"Ser Jaime," Harry called out, his voice firm yet measured, "do you yield?"

The question hung in the air, the weight of its implications clear to all who witnessed the duel. For Jaime, it was a moment of reckoning, a test of his honor and humility in the face of defeat.

With a resigned nod, Jaime met Harry's gaze and uttered a single word, "Yes."

And with that simple acknowledgment, the duel came to an end, Harry emerging as the victor while Jaime, with grace and dignity, accepted his defeat.

"Lord Hadrian Peverell!" King Robert's voice thundered through the grounds, commanding the attention of all who were present. "By the laws of combat and the traditions of our realm, I hereby declare you the victor of this duel and the new Lord of Moat Cailin!"

His proclamation echoed off the walls, sealing Harry's triumph and solidifying his claim to the ancient stronghold. Cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, the sound a cacophony of celebration and approval for their new lord. With King Robert's decree, the fate of Moat Cailin was decided, and Harry, now Lord Peverell of Moat Cailin, stood tall amidst the acclaim, ready to embark on his new role with determination and purpose.

—

In the quiet solitude of their chambers, Dany approached her husband with a gentle smile, her eyes reflecting pride and admiration.

"Congratulations, mon coeur," she said softly, her voice warm with sincerity. "You fought with bravery and skill, and now Moat Cailin belongs to us."

Her words were filled with genuine affection and support, a testament to her unwavering belief in Harry's abilities. As they embraced, the weight of their victory filled the room, a shared triumph that would shape their future together as rulers of Moat Cailin.

"Thank you, mon ange," Harry murmured, his voice laced with tenderness as he held Dany close. "I couldn't have done it without your unwavering support by my side. Moat Cailin is ours now, and together, we'll ensure its prosperity and safety for generations to come."

As they basked in the glow of their victory, Harry's gaze drifted to the horizon, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.

"And," he continued, his tone contemplative, "it would be the perfect place for us to raise the dragons. A stronghold steeped in history and surrounded by natural defenses—it's where they'll thrive and grow strong."

With a shared smile, they embraced, united in their vision for the future and the legacy they would build together in their new domain.

With a passionate kiss, Dany conveyed her love and admiration for her husband, her hunger evident in the intensity of her gaze. As she began to remove his armor, her movements were deliberate and filled with longing, each piece falling away to reveal the man beneath. With each touch, the air between them crackled with desire, their connection deepening with every moment. Lost in the heat of the moment, they surrendered to the intimacy of their union, their love igniting a flame burned brighter than any conquest or victory.

With a primal urgency, Harry's hands moved eagerly to remove Dany's clothes, his touch igniting a fervent desire between them. The fabric yielded easily to his grasp, revealing the soft curves of her body beneath. With each garment discarded, their connection deepened, the heat of their passion growing more intense with every moment. Lost in the throes of their desire, they surrendered to the magnetic pull of their love, their bodies entwined in a dance of longing and fulfillment.

With a reverent fervor, Harry knelt before Dany, his actions imbued a deep sense of devotion and desire. As he leaned in, his lips met the tender skin of her inner thighs, tracing a path of tantalizing kisses along her body. Each touch elicited a gasp of pleasure from Dany, her breath hitching with anticipation. With each kiss, Harry bestowed upon her 'The Lords Kiss', a gesture of love and reverence that spoke volumes of his love and commitment. In that intimate moment, they shared a bond that transcended words, their connection forged in the heat of their passion and the depths of their hearts.

—-

After freshening up and preparing themselves for the festivities, Harry and Dany made their way to the grand hall where a feast was being held in honor of Harry's victory. As they entered, the lively sounds of music and revelry filled the air, setting the stage for a night of celebration.

"Oi, listen up, you lot!" King Robert's voice bellowed through the hall, the force of his words drawing every eye towards Harry and Dany as they made their entrance.

"By the Seven, did you all see that?!" King Robert's booming voice filled the hall, his enthusiasm infectious as he addressed the gathered lords and ladies. "Hadrian Peverell, he kicked The Kingslayer's arse! Aye, you heard me right!"

His words were met with raucous cheers and applause, the revelers eager to join in the celebration of Harry's victory. Harry and Dany shared a knowing smile, their triumph acknowledged and celebrated by all in attendance, despite the king's colorful language.

As Dany scanned the crowd, her eyes locked onto Cersei, who stood with a venomous glare directed towards King Robert. The intensity of Cersei's gaze spoke volumes, revealing the simmering resentment and disdain she held towards her husband.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out beneath the surface. Dany watched with a mixture of curiosity and caution, mindful of the volatile dynamics at play within the royal family.

"Hey, there he is!" Jon exclaimed, wrapping Harry in a bear hug from behind. "The victorious Lord of Moat Cailin!" Robb chimed in, joining the embrace with a mischievous grin. "We couldn't let you have all the fun without us, could we?" they teased, their laughter echoing through the hall as they indulged in some well-deserved tomfoolery.

"Looks like the squad is all here," Dany quipped with a playful smirk, joining in the banter as she leaned against Harry's side. "Just remember, boys, we're the ones who'll be ruling the roost at Moat Cailin," she added with a wink, her tone teasing yet confident.

"Absolutely," Harry replied with a chuckle, his arm wrapping protectively around Dany. "And with Jon by our side, I have no doubt we'll rule with both strength and mischief," he added, exchanging a playful glance with Jon and Robb.

The moment was ruined by the presence of the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon.

"Would you care to dance, Lady Fleur?" Joffrey's voice dripped with arrogance as he extended the invitation, his predatory gaze fixed on Dany, who masked her unease behind a polite smile.

Dany, maintaining her composure, nodded gracefully. "I would be honored, Your Grace," she replied, her tone polite but guarded. As they moved onto the dance floor, Dany's mind raced, wary of the prince's intentions and the potential dangers that lurked beneath his charming facade.

With a stoic expression masking his true intentions, Harry subtly cast the Flatulence hex at Joffrey, his wand movements concealed by the guise of a casual gesture.

As the hex took effect, a surprised expression flickered across Joffrey's face, quickly replaced by discomfort as he struggled to maintain his composure amidst the unexpected gaseous disturbance. Harry maintained his poker face, his eyes betraying nothing as he watched the prince's reaction with barely concealed amusement.

As Joffrey, thoroughly embarrassed, hastily retreated from the dance floor, Harry seamlessly stepped in to join Dany.

"May I have this dance?" Harry asked with a suave smile, extending his hand to Dany. She accepted with a grateful smile, relieved to be free from Joffrey's presence. As they resumed their dance, Harry's movements were fluid and confident, his demeanor far more relaxed now that they were alone on the dance floor. Dany matched his steps with ease, the shared amusement over Joffrey's departure strengthening their bond even further.

After dancing up a storm, Harry and Dany found themselves at a nearby table, catching their breath and enjoying a moment of respite. As they settled in, they were joined by Tyrion Lannister, whose wit and charm preceded him.

"Mind if I join you two?" Tyrion quipped with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, pulling up a chair with practiced ease.

Harry and Dany exchanged a glance before welcoming him with warm smiles, eager for the company of the witty Lannister.

"Well, well, well, Lord Peverell," Tyrion began with a smirk, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Congratulations on your triumph. I must say, you've managed to secure quite the prize. Moat Cailin, was it? A fine keep, I'm sure."

Harry chuckled at Tyrion's quip, appreciating the Lannister's unique brand of humor. "Thank you, Tyrion," he replied with a grin. "I couldn't have done it without a bit of luck and a lot of skill, but I suppose that's the secret to any good victory, isn't it?"

Dany nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she raised her own glass in salute to their unlikely ally.

Tyrion raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Well, I must admit, I'm quite astonished. The Kingslayer bested by Lord Peverell? It seems my dear brother is out there somewhere sulking in disbelief," he quipped, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "But enough about him. Tonight, let's revel in your victory, shall we?"

Harry chuckled, appreciating Tyrion's ability to lighten the mood even in the face of sibling rivalry. "Agreed," he replied, raising his glass in a toast. "To victory, and to unexpected alliances."

"So, Lord Peverell, Lady Fleur," Tyrion began, his curiosity piqued. "Tell me about the land you hail from. Avalon, was it? What tales does your homeland hold? I imagine it's a place of intrigue and mystery, with a name like that."

"Avalon!" Harry exclaimed with a smile, his eyes alight with fondness for his homeland. "It's a land of lush landscapes, steeped in ancient magic and noble traditions," he continued, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia.

Dany nodded in agreement, her own love for Avalon evident in her expression. "Indeed," she added, "it's a place where legends come to life, and every corner holds a story waiting to be discovered."

Tyrion listened with genuine interest, his sharp mind absorbing every detail they shared. In that moment, amidst the revelry of the feast, they found a shared connection in their appreciation for the rich tapestry of their respective homelands.

"And are there any songs from Avalon that you can sing?" Tyrion inquired with a playful glint in his eye, his curiosity piqued by the prospect of experiencing the music of their homeland.

Harry chuckled at Tyrion's question, a self-deprecating grin spreading across his face. "Ah, well, I'm afraid my singing talent is rather abysmal," he admitted with a good-natured shrug. "But my wife Fleur here," he continued, gesturing towards Dany with a fond smile, "she has the most melodious singing voice you'll ever hear. Perhaps she can grace us with a song from Avalon."

Dany blushed at Harry's compliment but nodded graciously. "I would be happy to," she replied, her voice soft but filled with warmth.

"Lords and ladies!" Tyrion's voice boomed through the hall, commanding the attention of all who were present. "I have the pleasure of announcing that Lady Fleur Peverell will be gracing us with a song from her homeland, Avalon!"

The room erupted into excited murmurs and applause as all eyes turned towards Dany, eager to experience the magic of her singing. With a smile and a nod of gratitude towards Tyrion, Dany prepared to share a piece of her homeland's rich musical heritage with those gathered, her heart filled with pride and anticipation.

As Dany began to sing, the room fell silent, and each line of the song resonated deeply with those gathered, evoking a range of emotions and reactions.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you?

Ned and Catelyn exchanged tender glances, their love for each other reflected in their eyes as they swayed gently to the music, reminiscing about their own journey together.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Robert Baratheon, his expression softened by the sentiment of the song, cast a wistful gaze towards Cersei. However, instead of their shared history flooding his mind, memories of Lyanna Stark, his lost love, began to resurface. As Dany's voice filled the room, each word of the song reminding him of Lyanna, Robert's heart ached with longing and regret for the woman he could never forget.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

Cersei Lannister, her mask of composure momentarily slipping, felt a pang of nostalgia wash over her as memories of love and loss flooded her mind. But instead of reflecting on her relationship with Robert, her thoughts were consumed by her complicated and unrequited feelings for her twin brother Jaime.

As Dany's voice filled the room with the poignant lyrics, Cersei couldn't help but be reminded of the forbidden love she harbored for Jaime, a love that had shaped her entire life and brought both ecstasy and agony.

Her eyes betrayed a hint of vulnerability as she wrestled with the emotions that surged within her, a mix of longing, regret, and longing for what could never be. Despite her best efforts to maintain her facade of strength, Cersei couldn't escape the haunting memories that still held her heart captive.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Harry watched Dany with adoration, his heart swelling with pride at her talent and the love they shared, a smile playing on his lips as he savored every note of her song.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

For I can't help falling in love with you

As Tyrion listened to Dany's enchanting voice fill the room, a thoughtful expression settled on his face. He appreciated the magic of her performance, allowing himself to be swept away by the emotion and beauty of the music. However, amidst the joy of the moment, memories of his own lost love, Tysha, resurfaced, casting a shadow over his thoughts.

In that bittersweet moment, Tyrion couldn't help but recall the tragic end to his love story with Tysha, the only woman he had ever truly loved. The pain of their separation and the betrayal that followed still haunted him, a reminder of the cruel twists of fate that had shaped his life.

Despite the weight of his memories, Tyrion found solace in the music, allowing himself to be carried away by its melody and finding a fleeting sense of contentment amidst the turmoil of his past.

As the song reached its conclusion, a wave of applause filled the hall, the collective appreciation for Dany's performance echoing in the hearts of all who had been touched by her song.

As Dany's song came to an end, Tyrion couldn't resist offering his praise. "Bravo, Lady Fleur!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "That was simply magnificent. Your voice has a way of reaching into the hearts of all who listen, and tonight was no exception."

With a charming smile, he continued, "And the song, it truly captured the essence of romance and longing. You have a gift for bringing music to life in a way that few can match." Tyrion's words carried weight, his appreciation for Dany's talent evident in every syllable.

As the evening drew to a close, the echoes of Dany's song lingered in the air, leaving a sense of warmth and camaraderie in its wake. With hearts full of memories and spirits lifted by the joy of the feast, the guests began to bid their farewells, their laughter and conversation fading into the night.

Harry and Dany, surrounded by friends old and new, shared a final toast to their victory and the bonds that had been strengthened throughout the evening. With a sense of contentment and anticipation for the days ahead, they left the hall hand in hand.

---

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