The Variant (Harry Potter And A song of Ice and Fire)

Disclaimer:

I do not own the characters from A Song of Ice and Fire, nor do I own the characters from Harry Potter

....

"I see the reproach in your eyes, nephew."

Harry's voice broke the heavy silence that dominated the room. Jaehaerys glared at him, his eyes burning with rage, his fists clenched on the dark wooden table, carved with intricate dragon patterns. The torchlight danced on the stone walls, casting unsettling shadows over both men.

"I should have you executed," the young king snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

"Should you?" Harry replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Under what crimes?"

"You are speaking to your king!" Jaehaerys slammed the table in fury, causing the candles to flicker and almost extinguish. "You will speak to me with respect."

Harry's expression hardened, his smile vanishing. His green eyes, intense like emeralds, locked onto his nephew's.

"Yes, you are the king," he responded, his tone graver. "But not my king."

Jaehaerys felt a chill run down his spine. The fury boiled inside him, but he contained it, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He couldn't afford to lose control, not in front of this man.

"Your brother usurped the rightful heir," Jaehaerys continued, his voice trembling slightly. "He murdered him, then tortured my younger brother. He plunged the realm into chaos. And what did you do? Absolutely nothing! You sat and watched as everything crumbled."

Silence filled the room, so heavy it seemed to crush Jaehaerys's chest. Harry maintained his icy calm, his gaze fixed on his nephew as if he were evaluating every word he said.

"I had a choice," Harry finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "I chose not to choose. Wherever I looked, I saw only death. My brother, your father, was a fool and weak. His decisions brought us to this point. My mother and Maegor… well, they acted as they saw fit, but they ended up causing more harm than good."

Jaehaerys opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut. He couldn't deny the truth in his uncle's words, though each one weighed on his heart like a stone.

"I decided to watch how everything would unfold," Harry continued, his voice filling the empty space of the room. "I deeply regret the deaths of your brothers, Rhaena's fate, and how it all ended. But you can't blame me for not raising my sword against my own family. Call me a coward if you wish, but in my hands, I didn't want to carry the blood of my kin."

Jaehaerys studied his uncle, the bastard born of Visenya Targaryen, the dowager queen, or the witch queen as some called her. Harry Warters, born five years after Maegor, was a surprise to the realm. A son of the queen, but not the king's. The fruit of infidelity. His hair, as black as a raven's wings, and his bright green eyes set him apart from his siblings, though some silver strands in his hair revealed his Valyrian heritage. However, it was his mastery over Cannibal, a dragon feared by all, that most astonished the realm. He had mounted the beast when he was just seven years old.

"You chose to let a tyrant rule," Jaehaerys hissed, his eyes full of severity. "You chose to let him bring death and chaos to the realm. That was your choice."

"And tell me, Jaehaerys," Harry retorted sharply, "Did you intend to kill your uncle yourself? Of course, you did. How else could you claim the throne? That's the cruelty of fighting your own family. No matter the reason, you will be forever tainted in the eyes of men."

"It was the right thing to do," Jaehaerys muttered, though his voice wavered.

Harry nodded slowly.

"Yes, it was. But now it doesn't matter. What's done is done. Jaehaerys, understand one thing: heavy is the crown you will wear, and the decisions you will have to make. Being king is not a privilege; it's a responsibility, a duty. But that, you will learn in time."

With that, Harry rose from his seat, his black cloak billowing slightly as he headed toward the door.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," Jaehaerys warned, his voice firm, but with a trace of uncertainty.

Harry just smiled, a smile full of knowledge that left Jaehaerys uneasy.

"Good luck with your reign, nephew." He opened the door, but before leaving, he tossed something toward Jaehaerys. "Oh, I almost forgot. Here."

Jaehaerys caught a coin in the air, a black coin with the relief of a dragon on one side and a strange triangle on the other. Unlike common coins, this one was completely black, as if forged from darkness itself.

"In case you ever need me," Harry said without further explanation. And with that, he left, leaving Jaehaerys alone with his thoughts and the mysterious coin in his hand.

"What in the Seven Hells does this mean?" the young king muttered, staring at the coin, trying to decipher its purpose.

That day marked the last time Jaehaerys would see his uncle for many years.

...

Aerea Targaryen enjoyed the rare moment of freedom in the stables, away from the watchful eyes and intrigues of the Red Keep. Here, she could be herself, though ironically, she was hiding her true identity under the guise of a humble commoner. The Keep was a nest of vipers, always scheming, always watching. Here, she had more freedom than she had experienced in a long time.

"Well, you've done a fine job here."

A man's voice startled her. Aerea looked up and found a tall man with black hair streaked with silver, smiling at her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. His green eyes sparkled, as if they hid a thousand secrets.

"Forgive the sudden intrusion, little lady. I was just passing by, and I noticed the good care the horses receive. Your dedication shows."

Aerea felt a slight blush on her cheeks. "I… well, sir…"

"Harry, you can call me Harry. May I know your name, little lady?"

Aerea eyed him warily now. Something about his way of speaking made her uneasy, as if he knew more than he let on.

"My name is Lyarra, my lord," she finally replied, trying to remain calm.

"Lyarra," Harry repeated, his voice full of complicity, as if her name held a secret only he knew. "Well, Lyarra, it was a pleasure meeting you."

Before Aerea could react, Harry tossed something to her. She instinctively caught it. It was a black coin, identical to the one he had given Jaehaerys, with the relief of a dragon on one side and a triangle on the other.

"Keep it. Something tells me you'll need it," Harry said before disappearing as mysteriously as he had appeared.

Aerea, still confused, looked at the coin, trying to understand its meaning. When she looked up to ask the man more questions, the entrance was empty.

...

In the darkness of the night, Harry flipped a coin in the air, his expression thoughtful.

"Your actions go against fate," whispered a voice that seemed to emerge from the shadows themselves.

Harry rolled his eyes, as if he had expected that reprimand. "I challenge the already determined plans," he retorted with disdain.

"You should have thought better before bringing me here," he added, his tone mocking. "My very presence alters the established fate."

He recalled the twilight of humanity when he thought he would finally obtain eternal rest. And yet, here he was, stranded in a new world. Potter luck stank, but this was a new level.

"I don't know why you brought me here, and I care little. I won't be a puppet in your plans," Harry warned, looking up at the starry sky. The voice didn't respond.

The coin he had tossed finally fell to the ground with a soft clink, and Harry knew it was time to leave.