Overturning the Board Ch.5 (HP/GoT)

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AN: I'm back with 2 updates today (1 SFW, 1 NSFW) and the 2 updates tomorrow. Been an odd month or so involving a combination of illness, need to focus on other projects, and straight up revamping some of my fanfic to make them more compact. Thank you for your patience. I see there were new additions to the Patreon UI, one being a chat option. I'll take a look at these when I have time and use them if they seem good.

295 AC

King’s Landing

Harry concentrated as he put the protective wards around his little sister’s chambers. It was a struggle since this was never his strong suit in his past life. Still, he knew enough to prevent non-magicals from harming Myrcella before he could intervene.

Most of the wards he put up focused on influencing the mind of anyone who wanted to harm Myrcella, making it hard for people with ill intent to even notice the room. For the few that were strong-willed, the ward of last defense would act as a temporary freezing charm to give Harry time to arrive.

“Brother? Can I come in now?”

The squeaky voice of Myrcella sounded out from outside the closed door. Harry couldn’t have a seven-nameday girl see him casting magic.

“Yes, you can, Myrcella.”

The door burst open to briefly reveal Ser Arys standing guard before Myrcella shut the door behind her.

“Where is it? I can have it now, right?”

With a smile, Harry presented a transfigured doll that he made to look like an even more cherubic Myrcella. His little sister gasped in amazement as she carefully took it from his hands.

Without taking her eyes off the doll, Myrcella whispered, “She’s so pretty.”

Harry chuckled and tousled her blonde hair before saying, “Just like you. Now, was it worth the wait?”

The doll was a bribe to make Myrcella step out of her room without too many questions. And it worked just like expected.

After she rapidly nodded her head, Harry said, “I have a present for Tommen, too. Do you want to come with me?”

Moments later, Harry was walking to his littlest brother’s chambers. He had been trying his best to spend more time with his youngest siblings ever since Joffrey was free to move about the castle. Not only was it to keep them safe, but Harry also wanted to truly spend time with his family. It was a shame that his obsession with magic and possibly returning to his old world consumed his thoughts previously.

It had led Harry to neglect a great many things that were considered to be of utmost importance in this new world. If he was looking at the big picture, the kingdoms Harry was to rule were in a stagnant state. There had been almost no innovation for thousands of years, and there was even evidence that the peak had occurred centuries ago in the Valyrian Freehold. The time wasted dreaming about returning to his old world could have been spent figuring out how to bring his future kingdom kicking and screaming into a more progressive age.

In the matters relating directly to Harry, he still couldn’t swing a sword to save his life. There were workarounds for this lack of skill, with magical armor coming to mind, but that would be a long way off in the future since Harry would have to make it himself. He was no expert in making anything similar, so there would have to be a tremendous amount of trial and error. Harry had ended up reluctantly asking some of the kingsguard to start training him. The training so far was miserable, but Harry knew he had to be a good swordsman if he wanted to command respect. It’s not like he can start flinging magic about to do the same. Not when most of the people here were terrified of magic, or simply didn’t believe it was real. A strange belief when dragons had existed.

After he spent an hour putting up wards in his youngest brother’s room, Harry entertained Tommen and Myrcella by keeping them company for some time before finally leaving. While he wished that he could spend the rest of the day with them, Harry knew that he had far too much to do to be idle for too long.

Kingsroad

Ned Stark didn’t think he would ever willingly go south again, but when Robert sent a letter practically demanding his presence for the Crown Prince’s nameday, he was left with no choice.

Well, that was false.

Ned knew he would have declined it anyway if not for his lady wife pushing for him to agree. He cursed Robert for including that Sansa was required to accompany him on this little journey. Even a dullard would have realized that this nameday tourney would be where the future queen of Westeros would be chosen. With that indirectly spelled out, Catelyn would have been wroth if he refused the summons.

Speaking of his dear lady wife, it looked like he had to save his daughter from her accusing glares again.

“Lyarra!” Ned called out, “Come ride next to me.”

Ned saw the relief on Lyarra’s face as she moved her horse next to his. He was still uneasy about why Catelyn insisted on bringing his bastard daughter to King’s Landing, but Lyarra couldn’t stay a child forever, no matter how much Ned wished she would. Besides, even though Lyarra didn’t have the Stark name, he knew her beauty would attract offers above her station. Ned even considered asking Robert to legitimize Lyarra to give her a better match, no matter how much Catelyn would rage at him for that.

“Lord Stark.”

Ned’s smile dipped at being reminded of his wife’s influence on Lyarra. It had been years since the last time she had called him father. Maybe Ned hadn’t been the best one to his bastard daughter, but that didn’t mean he loved her less than his trueborn children.

“Are you excited to see King's Landing, daughter?”

Ned wasn’t one for small talk, but he usually found himself overcompensating when around Lyarra. She had been meant for far greater things if not for how life had worked out.

Of course, instead of answering his question with excitement like a girl her age should, Lyarra did the opposite and replied with a question of her own.

“Is the Crown Prince truly a good match for Sansa, my Lord?”

Ned couldn’t hide the grimace from appearing on his face. It was not a match that he was looking to make, especially since he had become far more aware that Sansa was not ready to deal with men who were not family. She would walk into her own ruin.

“I take that as a no,” Lyarra commented beside him, “Then why are you bringing her with us?”

Ned let out a weary chuckle, both happy that she was still overprotective of both her sisters, and also exhausted knowing the endless glares he would have to endure. Lyarra had him wrapped around her little finger for someone who refused to call him father.

“You do not refuse a king’s request, daughter.”

“Lies,” Lyarra declared confidently, “You refused King Robert plenty of times in the past. What changed this time?”

Ned couldn’t stop the slight smile from appearing on his lips at seeing Lyarra’s righteousness. He ignored the slight flinch as he ran his hand over her hair,

“My daughters will eventually have to leave Winterfell. It would be a disservice if I didn’t search for the best options.” Ned saw Lyarra shoot him a glare that could freeze a white walker, but he met her eyes calmly and continued, “I include you in this, daughter. I will never force you into a match, but keep an open mind.”

“As if any house will want a bastard as their Lady.”

“None of that,” Ned said sharply, voice softening when Lyarra flinched, “It will be their loss if they don’t see what you have to offer.”

The number of times a vassal lord had visited under the guise of arranging a fostering or some other such nonsense while truly hoping to start talks of a betrothal between their houses and Sansa or Arya was uncountable. When Ned refused to entertain those talks, it was equally uncountable when their eyes set on Lyarra.

She was a wild beauty with a touch of something extra, something ethereal. The stunning violet eyes she inherited only highlighted her looks, making most who met her gaze to be lost in their depths. Only a fool would miss that Lyarra would be one of the fairest maidens in the seven kingdoms, let alone the north.

Ned had already been tempted to draw Ice and lop off the heads of many a lord who looked at his daughter with ignoble intentions. Now, it seemed he would have to resist the temptation twice over since Sansa had flowered into a lady to match her older sister.

“My promise to you still stands, daughter,” Ned squeezed her shoulder lightly, “You will be able to enter the house of whichever lad catches your fancy. Trust me on this.”

Lyarra shifted uneasily on her horse before muttering something too quiet for him to hear clearly.

“You’ll have to speak louder, daughter.” Ned frowned, having an idea what was whispered.

“What if I don’t want to get married?” Lyarra shot him a challenging look.

“So be it,” Ned smiled, “I wouldn’t mind having you in Winterfell, and neither would Robb.”

Lyarra blinked, looking at him in shock. “… Will Lady Stark allow that? I overheard her saying she would marry me off to get me out of the castle.”

Ned swallowed his anger, well aware of what she was talking about. His lady wife was all he could have hoped for, but one deficiency was her dislike of Lyarra. However, it was his fault in the end.

Still, his wife had lost her mind if she thought he would let Lyarra marry someone not of nobility. That life was not for any child with Stark blood.

“Only I decide your marriage,” Ned said firmly, “Nobody else, no matter what they wish.”

Lyarra looked away before nodding slightly. In a whisper that could barely be heard above the horses’ trot, she said, “Thank you, father.”

Ned knew well enough that it wouldn’t be wise to show his happiness at the moment. It was enough that she had called him father while he was in earshot. The reason she stopped was a consequence of letting his household be run entirely by his wife, but it wasn’t something he was capable of changing in the first place.

He settled into a quiet ride beside his daughter, moving ever so close to King’s Landing.

King’s Landing

“What a difference,” Harry mumbled as he stood outside the city walls with his family. Of course, that included the retinue of courtiers, Gold Cloaks, and Kingsguard.

He looked away from his mother’s seething expression and glanced at Margaery Tyrell standing beside him. It had been one of the first times she had been allowed near him since she arrived moons ago.

Of course, that was despite his efforts to grow closer to the Tyrells. Turns out his old man still bothered to make an effort when it involved making the Starks officially part of his family. Again, not if he could help it.

“My Prince, do you wish for me to move? The King arranged for me to stand here.”

Ah right. Margaery Tyrell wasn’t standing directly beside him since his faithful maid acted as a barrier. Again, his kingly father was determinedly meddlesome when it suited his desires.

“Hm, do so,” Harry replied quietly, keeping his eyes on the horizon. He heard the faint whispers of thanks to his side, barely audible over the crowd's low rumbling.

Melleah had really put herself into whatever task he asked of her after their talk, no matter how much it put her out of her comfort zone. However, none of that convinced him more of her intent to stay by his side than her willingness to let a woman get closer to him. One that she knew Harry was looking to make Queen.

He glanced at his father when he heard a boisterous laugh, still unable to believe the change in the man. The Starks seemed to hold far more weight in his father’s heart than his own family. Harry couldn’t remember the man looking this happy before.

“Good day, Prince Harys.”

Harry turned his attention away from his father to the young woman beside him. It didn’t escape his notice that she went the extra mile to make herself look pretty, not that he thought it necessary.

Given what Melleah had told him about what she had heard through the other servants, the Tyrells were desperately trying to find a way to get his attention before the Starks arrived. An amusing worry since, at the same time, Harry had been trying to find a way to escape his minders to meet them discretely.

It could be easier to be blatant about his desire to meet the Tyrells or, more specifically, Margaery. Still, he didn’t want his father to go to greater extremes. Harry knew that the man already disliked the roses of Highgarden, and he wouldn’t need much reason to impulsively kick them out of King’s Landing.

“Lady Margaery,” Harry nodded slightly, “I hope the stay in the city has been to you likely thus far.”

Margaery gave him a sweet smile before it dimmed slightly. “It has been exciting, my prince.”

“But?” Harry prodded lightly, knowing precisely what was about to be said. Melleah had missed this, but it could be forgiven since she had just started being his personal rumor-gatherer. However, his crude legilimency would be enough for minor matters such as what Margaery was doing due to its public nature.

“It may have been presumptuous of me to do this, but I have been donating some food to the orphanages in Flea Bottom. I tried to ask if it was permissible beforehand, but anyone with the authority was… busy.”

Harry wondered how much of that was acting, or mummery as they call it in Westeros. It was no lie that she was spending her time among the unfortunate, but that had only started after news of the Starks arriving was spread, especially when it included the possibility of Harry being matched with a Stark daughter.

As for Margaery asking permission, Harry's shallow investigation pointed to that never happening.

However, he didn’t care about the lies. As long as Margaery continued to be a good queen to the public, that was all that mattered. It was of little consequence if that was only to improve her image. After all, it still ended with the smallfolk benefitting.

“I have heard of this,” Harry gave Margaery a soft smile, “And I am in favor of it. It is rare to find someone so kind, Lady Margaery.”

“My prince,” Margaery ducked her head to hide, “It is our duty.”

Harry hummed in thought as he noticed her cheeks flush a soft pink, wondering if she was this accomplished at acting. He hadn’t thought so when they met, but first impressions weren’t everything. It could be that he was utterly wrong.

Or, more likely, Margaery Tyrell might actually be as kind as she was portraying. Harry had no doubt that she was ambitious and aimed to be his wife, but it would be a boon if she was also naturally kind.

“You are one of the few that think so,” Harry commented as he turned back to watching the road, “I would like to join you, my lady.”

“My prince?” Margaery sounded like she was caught off guard.

“I’m ashamed to say that I have neglected the smallfolk in favor of books,” Harry said regretfully, “There is no better way to change that than accompanying you to witness your generosity.”

“I-I would be happy to do so, my prince,” Margaery beamed a wide smile at him.

“Very well,” Harry nodded before telling Melleah, “Secure enough coin for the trip. I want to match what Lady Margaery plans to donate.”

“It will be done, Prince Harys.”

Harry intended to continue the pleasantries with Margaery, but the time for that had run out.

“HARRY!” Though he was only a few strides away, Robert yelled, “I want you next to me!”

Harry barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at how blatantly his father showed his dislike of Margaery. He gave her an apologetic smile, feeling pity at the brave face she was putting on.

“Apologies, my lady. I ask permission to visit you to make plans for our trip.” Harry couldn’t have been more obvious of where his feelings lay, which was the complete opposite of his father.

Margaery didn’t miss that if her renewed smile was anything to go by. “I would like nothing more, my prince.”

Harry nodded before motioning for Melleah to stay beside the Tyrell. “Perhaps it will be helpful to discuss this with Lady Margaery. I expect an estimate from you, Melleah.”

“Of course,” Melleah bowed with determination.

Harry could see the questions in Margaery’s eyes, most likely about why a simple maid was given such orders. He ignored them. She would learn in time as Melleah showed her worth.

“They’re here!” Robert bellowed before laughing happily, making Harry look at the horizon. The procession was smaller than the Tyrells, but unlike them, the Starks hadn’t brought along anything to bribe the smallfolk with.

They didn’t need to.

“Get over here, Harry!”

Not when the King was so enamored with them already.

Harry sighed and made his way next to his father. It was a good thing his magic was slowly regaining its strength. He had a feeling it would be needed if some decisions weren’t to his liking.