Not a great chapter, I know. I've been distracted lately. Anyway thanks for your continued support and your patience!

Warnings: Sex, Nudity, Prostitution and everything else associated with GOT.

I don't own anything.


Harry

"Fuck!" Harry grunted as he thrusted into a moaning Lyanna. "Fuck! Lyanna! I'm gonna… cum…"

"Hold on… for a little bit… longer…" Lyanna panted, wrapping her arms around his neck and locking her ankles around his waist. "I'm… almost… there…"

Groaning as she wrapped herself around him, Harry braced his arms on either side of her body and buried his face in between her breasts.

"Mm! That's it!" She breathed, hugging his head to her bosom. "Suck on my tits, Harry!"

Nuzzling her soft, heaving mounds, Harry obliged and sucked one of her teats into his mouth.

"Ohhh…" she gasped, pulling on his hair. "Harry!"

Revelling in her breathless state, Harry continued lavishing both of her tits with equal affection.

"Ohhh! That's it!" Lyanna moaned, pulling his head away from her breasts so that they could kiss.

With his mouth besieged by Lyanna's enthusiastic member, Harry resumed thrusting into the northern beauty until he felt her core squeeze around him.

"Fuck you're tight!" He grunted against her lips. She didn't seem to care as she resumed kissing him. Soon, it became too much and he climaxed within her. Breathing heavily, he pulled out and rolled onto his back.

"Gods…" Lyanna breathed, rolling with him to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah…" Harry sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "I told you shagging on top of the Titan's head would be brilliant."

Though it was a bit windy and at times noisy, the thrill of shagging on top of Braavos' four hundred foot tall statue more than made up for it. Cuddling together afterward also helped keep the cool winds at bay.

"I don't remember ever objecting," Lyanna muttered, swatting his chest lightly. "Haven't I always followed you willing? Wherever you've taken us? Whenever?"

"Hm…" Harry paused combing his hand through her hair as he considered the past few weeks and their previous escapades. "Well…"

"Come now," Lyanna protested, sitting up slightly. "After you found out that Stygai didn't burn to the ground, did I complain when you made us pack up and leave in the dead of the night?"

"No…" Harry sighed. "You didn't…"

After he learned of his failure, he had gone back and attempted to infiltrate the temple to burn it from the inside. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get back into the city. He had done everything in his power to break through the wards but nothing he did worked.

"And did I complain when you snuck us into the Yitish Emperor's bedchambers?" Lyanna prodded, pulling him from the thoughts of his failed endeavour.

"No…" Harry replied, smiling fondly as he remembered the palace. Though he had questioned the emperor's taste in decor, he had to admit the man's bed was very comfortable. Lyanna certainly enjoyed bouncing on it as she rode him.

"And when we scaled the Wall of Love in Qarth," Lyanna pressed, climbing over him to straddle his groin. "Did I protest when you took me from behind?"

"I'm just surprised that none of the patrols caught us," Harry smirked, reaching down to fondle and knead her firm and shapely rear. "You were quite loud."

He could still remember it as if it were yesterday. She had been bent over as she gazed down at the depictions on the Wall from in between two of the its' crenels. The opportunity had been too good to pass up so he had stepped up behind her, flipped up her long skirt and eased himself into her folds. He'd been surprised when she stopped him and asked that he take her in her arse.

"Not as loud as you were when we were going at it in the Belfries of Norvos," Lyanna muttered, nestling his prick in between her thighs.

"The acoustics of that place made everything echo," Harry shot back defensively as his manhood stirred at all of the memories and her ministrations. "Besides that was nothing compared to how loud you wailed when we shagged on Melisandre's bed in that temple in Volantis. It was almost as if you were hoping she'd walk in on us." They were very fortunate she wasn't even in Volantis at the time.

"I'm sure you wouldn't've minded," Lyanna murmured huskily, leaning in closer. "Why'd did you want go back to Volantis anyway? I thought you wanted to avoid that place."

"What do you mean?" Harry whispered, glancing at her lips as they drew nearer. "I'm sure I've told you why…"

"No…" She replied, pecking his lips lightly. "You haven't told me a thing… I think Marwyn and Nadine are the only ones who know what you've been doing."

"What?" Harry frowned, feeling disappointed by the short kiss. "Oh… That's right, I asked for their advice."

"Mhm…" She hummed, rubbing her slick slit along his throbbing manhood. "For what?"

"Hm?" Harry mumbled, not paying attention to what she was saying. He was too focused on guiding his length back into her. "What was that?

"Whatever you're plotting must involve those Yunkish girls and the Unsullied you sent away-" Lyanna continued before she gasped as he thrusted into her familiar warmth. Settling her rear on his groin, she began to rock her hips slowly. "Where have you… sent them?"

"Where have I sent them?" Harry repeated dumbly, enjoying the way her breasts swayed as she moved on his lap. "Oh, I've sent them to work at some of the properties I've purchased. Nadine's overseeing everything else."

"What-!" Lyanna gasped as he hit a sensitive spot. Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she dangled her tits in his face. "What kind of work?"

"They're gathering information for me," he answered, craning up to nuzzle her breasts.

"Harry!" Lyanna whimpered, cradling his head to her bosom. "Mm… That's sweet... You just can't leave my tits alone… can you, Harry?"

"Mhm…" Harry groaned around her nipple in agreement as he felt her flex her muscles around his shaft.

"You'll tell me what… you're asking of those girls, won't you Harry?" She asked, her arse smacking against his groin in slow, rhythmic thuds.

"Yeah," Harry grunted, bucking up into her to get her to move faster.

"Nuh-uh-uh!" She tutted, lifting herself off of his prick. "Not until you tell me what's going on!"

Missing the feeling of her velvety folds enveloping his prick and the softness of her tits, Harry quickly capitulated. "They're working in brothels!"

"Brothels?" She repeated, sheathing his sword back into her sheathe. "How come?"

"Well, you see…" Harry began, sitting up to keep her on his lap. "It's like this…"

Feeling wary of Chatana and her sorcerers in Asshai, he had decided to set up an intelligence network to try and keep track of everything going on in Essos. To do so, Marwyn had recommended that he purchase brothels in all of the major cities of Essos. He had quickly caught on to what the maester had in mind and it was only at an eavesdropping Nadine's urging that he employed the Yunkish girls. They had wanted to repay him for his kindness and since he had refused their advances, this would be the way they'd be able to help him. Although he had been a bit conflicted at first, he ultimately agreed but only if they abided by certain conditions.

"…and the only way I was going to let them work in my brothels was if I knew they were going to be safe."

"Well that explains what happened to the Unsullied," Lyanna said, still seated in his lap with her arms draped over his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. "But what about-"

"They're free to do as they please! They can stop and leave whenever they like! They also get to keep all of the money they earn," Harry interjected hastily. "After they've covered all the necessary taxes, wages and fees, of course."

"Of course…" Lyanna murmured, staring into his eyes as her fingers played with the hair on the back of his head.

"I've also created a separate floo network for them," Harry muttered, losing himself in her grey eyes. "You know… So it's easier for them to move around and get the information to me…"

That had been one of the other things he discovered. He found out that if he made the fire using a specific type of wood, say ebony, then that fireplace would only be connected to other ebony fireplaces.

"So what's Nadine doing then?" Lyanna asked, locking her legs behind him. "Is she the one criss-crossing across the continent, dealing with all of the paperwork and collecting all of the information?"

"Yeah…" He nodded. "I needed someone I could trust implicitly."

"What about Marwyn?" Lyanna asked, starting to slowly grind against him. "You've gotten much… closer ever since… he's found out… about the Valyrian scrolls… you've collected…"

"He's too busy browsing…. through them with Tobho," Harry panted as he held onto her. "They're trying to… figure out how… Valyrian Steel was made."

He got lucky when they had visited Qohor. After Marwyn had told him that the Qohorik blacksmiths were the only ones in the Known World that knew how to rework Valyrian Steel, he was determined to convince one of them to join him. He was fortunate that it didn't take much for Tobho Mott to accept. The man had already been planning to move abroad.

"I don't think… I've ever seen anyone… get so excited… over scrolls…" Lyanna gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her movements began more and more erratic.

"You haven't… met… Hermione…" Harry grunted, guiding her as she bounced on his lap. "I know… she'd give them… a run for their money."

"I'm… sure…" Lyanna breathed, leaning down to kiss him.

Harry eagerly deepened the kiss and returned her passion with gusto. It didn't take long before he felt the tell-tale signs that told him that he was, once again, close to completion. He would've voiced those sentiments to Lyanna but she didn't seem interested in hearing them as she continued to invade his mouth with her tongue.

"Lya-Mm… Lyanna!" He groaned around her tongue. "Ohhhh!"

Lyanna didn't relent in her assault and continued to ride him.

"Ohhh…" Harry groaned as he gushed into her and fell back to lie on Titan's head.

"Hah…" Lyanna sighed as she still rolled her hips, keeping his softening and sensitive length within her. "I guess Mirri was right… It does work…"

"Mhm? What was that?" Harry asked drowsily before he came to a sudden realization. "Hey! Wait a second…"

Lyanna chuckled as she came down to rest on his chest.

"I would've told you if you had asked," Harry grumbled, squeezing her in his arms.

"When?" Lyanna scoffed, rising up to look him in the eye. "I've asked you plenty of times! You've always brushed me aside and told me that you'd tell me 'later'."

"W-Well… I-Ah…" Harry stuttered, unsure of how to reply. Shrugging, he hugged her close. "I guess that's fair…"

"I'll make it up to you," Lyanna chuckled, leaning up to kiss his jaw. "How about this? When we return to Westeros, we'll sneak into the Red Keep and you can bugger me on Aerys' bed."

"That's an idea," Harry chuckled, giving his lover one last squeeze before he pulled out of her and rolled to his feet.

"Have you finished setting up your little brothel here in Braavos?" Lyanna asked, accepting his hand as he help her to her feet.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, summoning their clothes and brooms from where they dropped them. "Everything is all set. We can pack up and leave now."

"Where to next?" Lyanna asked, slipping on her tunic. "Are we heading east? Vaes Dothrak? Ibben?"

"No-" Harry began only to interrupted by the Titan's Roar. "No… We're heading north."

"North…" Lyanna repeated slowly before her grey eyes widening in realization. "We're returning to Winterfell!? But what about the people back at camp! Weren't we going to find them a new home?"

"That was what I had originally intended," Harry grumbled, kicking the Titan in frustration. "Those guys are determined to follow me wherever I go. Nothing I say or do can change their mind."

"But the cold-"

"They'll just have to get used to it," Harry cut her off. "I've made something that'll help them acclimate."

Lyanna still looked hesitant.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure I can get Kreacher to help out as well," Harry said, trying to reassure her. "They'll be fine."

"We'll see…" Lyanna sighed.

Handing her the Nimbus, Harry mounted his Firebolt and together they took off flying in the direction of their camp. They were halfway there when Lyanna noticed something and slowed down.

"What is it?" He asked, glancing around.

"Do you think we could make one last stop?" She asked, pointing to a building flying a standard with a pale blue rose.

"Sure," Harry replied, smiling bemusedly. "I don't see why not…"

Lyanna

"So what is it about this place that caught your eye?" the wizard that changed her life asked as they crossed over one of the stone bridges that connected the small islands. "It doesn't look all that special to me…"

After she had showed it to him, they flew towards it and landed in one of the deserted alleys nearby.

"Their standard bears a winter rose," she explained, pointing to the fluttering flag once again. "If I'm right -and I believe that I am- then this building belongs to, or belonged to, the Company of the Rose."

"The what of the what?" her bemused lover asked.

"The Company of the Rose," Lyanna repeated patiently. "They're the descendants of the northerners that refused to submit to Aegon the Conqueror."

"Oh…" Harry blinked, glancing at the standard. "So… What are you hoping to find? Some long lost relatives?"

"Aye," she nodded. "One of Torrhen's sons was the one leading those who chose to leave. His descendants might still be leading them to this day."

"Well… I guess there's only one way to find out," Harry replied as they came upon the gated building.

"Halt! Who goes there?" A accented voice from above called out to them. "Name yourselves and state your purpose!"

Above the gates were two men watching their approach. They were both burly with grizzled beards. One had put his hand on the pommel of his sword while the other was ready to ring an alarm bell.

"Harry and Lyanna of Winterfell!" the former wolf maid called out, walking up to them unflinchingly. "We've come here to seek an audience with the leader of Company of the Rose."

"For what purpose?" One of the two guards growled.

"To see if any of my kin still live among you," Lyanna answered, staring up at the men critically. She wondered which house they hailed from. There was something about them that seemed familiar.

"Kin?" The guard rumbled in his deep voice. "Which house are you from, girl?"

"House Stark!" Lyanna piped up pridefully. "And I name you Umbers. You have to be. You're almost as big as Jon is."

"Aye, that we are," one of the Umbers agreed, his amusement clear in his gruff voice. "You're a long way from home, Lyanna Stark. Who's your companion?"

"He's a sorcerer sworn to my family," she stated. "Will you let us in and give us your bread and salt?"

"Hm… A sorcerer, eh? We'll see about that…" the guard said, turning to his fellow guardsman. "Do you want to let Lord Commander Osric know, or shall I?"

"Just give them bread and salt, Harmond," the other man groaned, giving a signal to open the gate. "Come, Lady Lyanna. I'm certain Lord Osric won't mind meeting some of his kin. It's been a long time since Lord Rodrik came by when he fought with the Second Sons."

"My grandfather was here?" Lyanna wondered aloud, walking through the gate and accepting the bread and salt handed to her.

"Years and years ago," the guard named Harmond replied as the two descended from the portcullis and led them into the building. "I was but a babe when he came here for a visit."

"He never mentioned any of this to anyone back home," Lyanna muttered, remembering the tales about her grandfather. "I've only ever heard about his prowess in battle."

"He wasn't here for that long," the other Umber replied, scratching his beard. "Just enough time to join us for a feast and sire a bastard."

"Really?" Lyanna gaped disbelievingly. It was unfathomable… Then again, he did do a lot of traveling before he settled down and married her grandmother.

"That's if you believe what Bellenora claimed," Harmond confirmed. "Not many here do but we still maintained a cordial relationship with him and his family. He enlisted to serve in our ranks for almost a decade, you know. Hm… You could meet him if you'd like. I'm sure he'll come by once word gets out. He might even bring his family."

"Huh…" Lyanna frowned as they continued walking down the hall. Feeling a nudge from her left, she turned and saw her lover looking down at her in concern.

"What's wrong?" He asked, a frown on his face. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I'm just thinking about what they said about my grandfather's supposed bastard," Lyanna replied.

"You're wondering if he really is related to you?" Harry assumed astutely.

"Aye," Lyanna nodded, suddenly getting an idea. "Is it possible for you to determine someone's parentage with magic?"

"I could do it with a potion," Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head. "But since your grandfather isn't here it's going to take another to determine if this man is actually related to you."

"Why?" Lyanna wondered curiously.

"Normally, if I was going to determine the someone's paternity, I'd need some hair from the father, the mother and the child." Harry answered. "Since your grandfather's dead, I'm going to need to prepare another potion to break apart the first concoction so that we can trace your lineage back further."

"What…" Lyanna gaped confusedly.

"It's all about matching colours, you see," Harry continued. "The closer the colours are in the spectrum, the more likely it is that the subjects are related."

"Spectrum? What are you talking about?" She asked, completely bewildered. "I thought we were talking about a potion."

"The potion will change colour when mixed with your hair," Harry explained, digging around the pouch he carried around his neck. "I understand it's complicated but I've got it all worked out."

"Do you already have the potion on hand?" Lyanna asked, wondering if that was what he was looking for.

"I've got all of the ingredients," the wizard replied, fishing out his miniaturized trunk. "I just need to mix them together, make the splitting potion, a quill, your hair, some of his, a piece of parchment and it'll be all set."

"That's great, I guess..." Lyanna smiled bemusedly. "Let's just hope that-"

"Lord Commander Osric!" Harmond called, interrupting her jubilation. "A Stark of Winterfell has come to call."

"Lyanna Stark has come here?" A strong voice replied. "To Braavos?"

"Aye, milord," Harmond's partner rumbled. "We've brou-"

"Did you give her salt and bread?" The voice behind the door shouted in a panicked tone.

"Aye, she's-"

"Well don't just stand there! Let her in!" The voice cried sending the door crashing open. "Who knows who's lurking about? Those damned Faceless Men have probably already… Oh! You've already brought them inside…"

Standing before them stood an old, bearded, and scarred man. She couldn't pick out any of the man's features that would label him as a Stark. Then again, he was rather old and wrinkled…

"Come in! Come in!" The old man exclaimed, beckoning them into his solar. "It's been so long since we've had anyone from Winterfell here. I think the last time was when we celebrated my tenth nameday. Gods… That was almost sixty years ago."

"We've heard…" Lyanna muttered as she and Harry were ushered into the cluttered room and onto a couple of seats.

"I'll take it from here, Harmond," the lord commander told the Umbers. "I'll need you two to make sure there aren't any of those assassins lurking about. They know not to come into this place but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. Oh! And could you send a runner to Otherys and his family? I'm sure he'd like to meet her as well."

"As you command, milord," the two bowed and left the room.

"Now what's brought a Stark of Winterfell all the way out here?" Osric asked after he closed the door. "Have you set out on an adventure as your grandfather did? Have you come seeking shelter from the Iron Throne? Or mayhaps you've come here to hide from the Faceless Men?"

"No," Lyanna said, shaking her head. She didn't understand why they would be hiding from the Faceless Men but that question could wait for another time. "We've just come by to see what's become of the Company of the Rose. It's been so long since they left the north that I was curious to see if any from the northern houses still served in the ranks. I'm surprised to see that a Stark still commands."

"Aye, that we do," the lord commander chuckled, sitting down on the seat behind his cluttered desk. "It's not that difficult to retain command when you don't have any Boltons around trying to usurp you."

"That makes sense, I suppose…" Lyanna began. "Oh! I was-"

"Ah! Forgive me! It seems I've forgotten my manners! Would either of you care for something to drink?" Osric asked, standing up from his seat and reaching for a kettle with a shaking unsteady hand. "I have some-"

"Let me help you with that," Harry swiftly intervened and picked up the kettle.

"Thank you," Osric said, sitting back down and accepting the cup Harry handed to him. "Ah… What were you saying?"

"I was going to ask if I could meet some of my other relatives," Lyanna replied, thanking Harry as he passed her a cup. "I want to know what's become of my family after all these years apart. And now that I've heard of him, I'd also wish to meet my grandfather's supposed bastard."

"Aye… Bellenora's boy," the older Stark

mused, stroking his beard. "Hm… I've asked Harmond to send a runner. Mayhap he and his family will come round for the feast."

"The feast?" Lyanna repeated bemusedly. "There's going to be a feast?"

"It's not everyday we receive visitors from Winterfell," the Lord Commander chuckled. "Oh, we may have had our differences in the past but the fact remains that we are still family. We must celebrate! It'd be the prefect time for you to meet your kin."

"That sounds lovely," Lyanna smiled.

"Excellent," the old man clapped and stood from his seat. "Now let's go alert the kitchens and introduce you to everyone."

Harry

It had been quite the learning experience to say the least. After alerting the kitchen staff, Osric guided them through the building. He had told them many things. He had explained how they had come to Braavos and their contract with the many different Sealords. He had spoken of the company's role during the wars with Pentos. He showed them the training yard where young men trained. He had even taken them to the library where archives and journals written by previous Lord Commanders were kept.

And through it all, Harry had met and spoken with many of the descendants of those that had left their home after Torrhen submitted to Aegon. There were Umbers, Karstarks, Manderlys, Ryswells, Cerwyns, Tallharts, Flints, and countless others. They had easily accepted them to eat in their Hall.

"Where's this Stark of Winterfell?" A masculine voice boomed as everyone had just sat down and began to eat.

"Otherys!" The Lord Commander named and greeted the newcomer. "Come and join us! She's right here!"

Harry got a better look at the man as he came closer. It was easy to see why the others had doubts about the man's heritage. He looked nothing like the rest of them. He was a slim dark man with cropped white hair. There was no trace of northerner in him.

"Aye, there she is," the man said, limping up to the dais where they were seated.

"So you're my grandfather's supposed bastard," Lyanna stated brashly, staring at the old man in search of any resemblance.

"That's what my mother told me," Otherys chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Ah… The problem all children of prostitutes, whores and courtesans face. We shall never know who our father truly is."

"We've made our peace with it," Osric said, slapping the man on the back. "It's of no importance to us. You're as good as family after all those battles you've fought alongside us."

Getting a nudge from Lyanna, Harry pulled out the potions and two small vials. "I could check if you'd like."

"Check?" Many voices echoed in the Hall.

"Yeah," Harry replied, pouring the contents of the paternity potion into the vials. "All I need is some of their hair." Plucking a strand of Lyanna's dark hair from her head, he dropped it into one of the vials and watched as the contents turned grey to the awe of all of the onlookers.

"You can tell me who my father is with just a strand of hair?" Otherys asked, his hand reaching up to touch his hair.

"I can tell if you and Lyanna are related," Harry corrected, setting down a sheet of parchment. "And yes, all I need is a strand of hair."

"But how?" Many people in the hall asked, crowding around him.

"Like so," Harry said, dipping the quill into the vial with Lyanna's hair and dabbing it onto the parchment. The small blotch immediately branched out and formed two smaller blotches of different shades of grey. "And once more." Taking the second potion, he used the quill to dab it on both of the new blobs and watched as lines emerged and two grey, one green and a blue blob formed. "Now it's your turn, Otherys." Holding out the vial with the paternity potion, he waited for the man to drop a hair.

"Wait a moment," Otherys said, looking down at the parchment. "How can you even tell what these splotches means? All I see are different coloured blobs linked together with some lines."

"That's easy!" Lyanna intervened before Harry could get a word in. She pointed to the grey blobs closest to hers. "These two are my mother and father's." Tracing further down, she then pointed to the next four blobs. "The blue one is my Grandmother Marna Locke's, while the green one is my mother's mother Arya Flint's." Pointing to the grey blob next to the green one she continued. "That means this one is my Grandfather Rodrik's"

"And there you have it," Harry said, gesturing to the parchment. "If one of the two colours that comes out from your blob matches this one than it's very likely you're Lyanna's bastard uncle."

"What…" the old man gaped as he stared at the parchment. Sighing, he reached up and plucked a hair from his head and held it out to Harry. "I guess there's no harm in checking… It'd be nice to know if I had any other relatives besides my half-sister and that mad man across the Narrow Sea."

Letting the man drop the strand into the potion, Harry watched as it turned a chocolaty brown. Dabbing it onto the parchment, he waited while everyone watching held their collective breath as lines formed and turned into two distinct blobs.

The first one to settle was a distinct brown one. It was a darker than the first and had a purple tint. The second one became a familiar grey to the cheers of all watching.

"Would you look at that!?" Lyanna's new bastard uncle exclaimed, his tone full of awe.

"I have a new uncle!" Lyanna exclaimed, waving the parchment in the air. "I would've never thought that my grandfather had a bastard! I've always thought that my dead Aunt Branda was my only relative."

"Now you know better," Harry replied, cleaning up and putting away his kit.

"How did it happen?" Lyanna asked, looking around. "Does anyone here know how my grandfather managed to get onto one of those tryst barges?"

"My mother told me that he fell on top of one of her more irritating suitors as it passed underneath a bridge," Otherys chuckled. "She had believed that he was one of her more ardent followers so she had wished to reward him for his devotion to her. It was only later, while they lay abed, that she realized he was merely a stumbling drunk."

"She bedded him just because he fell onto her barge?" Lyanna gaped.

"And landed onto an irritating suitor," Otherys added. "One should never underestimate the lengths a Summer Islander will go to reward those that aid them. The women especially. Oh yes… They are especially amorous when they wish to reward someone…"

"To think, after all this time, I had an uncle and family here that I never knew existed…" Lyanna said, her voice full of awe. "It's amazing…"

"It's always nice to meet family," Otherys replied. "Especially in these dark times when you've got the Faceless and Sorrowful Men after your head."

"Who are these Faceless Men?" Harry asked, perking up at the repeated mention of this new group. "You keep speaking about them but I've no idea who or what they are."

The Hall quieted for a moment as many shifted in their seats. Harry was going to voice his concern only for Lyanna's new uncle to begin speaking.

"Valar morghulis," the man intoned ominously.

"Valar dohaeris," many others in the hall chanted back.

"All men must die," Otherys translated. "And all men must serve. These are the Faceless Men's words. This is their creed."

"They're a group of highly skilled assassins that traverse the land dealing the gift of death to contractees," Osric stated softly, his voice no louder than a whisper. "They serve a Many-Faced God and convene here on Braavos."

"And the Sorrowful Men?" Harry asked.

"They're another group of assassins based in Qarth."

"And we're one of their targets?" Harry asked, only seeking confirmation. He hadn't heard so much of a word of this back it Qarth. He supposed that the contract might've not reached there yet.

"I believe so," Otherys confirmed. "It would seem that King Aerys set a price on your heads. Well that's what my niece tells me. One can never be sure what's going on across the Narrow Sea. Not now that Aemon Targaryen has wrested the throne from his grandnephew."

"Well I wish them all of the luck in the world," Harry chuckled sardonically. These Targaryen's had nothing on

Voldemort and his Death Eaters. "They wouldn't be the first to try to take my head." Life wouldn't be as exciting if there wasn't the threat of death hanging above his head.

"You're not worried?" asked Otherys, a concerned expression etched on his face.

"How will they be able to kill me if they can't even catch me?" Harry scoffed before he paused and pondered a new possibility. As he learned of these assassins, his immediate reaction was to ignore and run away from them. That always seemed to be his ultimate course of action. Perhaps it was time to start doing things in a different way. "You know what? I'm tempted to go and meet these killers. Where is this convent?"

"You want to walk into their home?" Osric asked, his voice pitching slightly.

"Yeah," Harry nodded to the shock of all. "It's about time I stopped hiding from my pursuers and dealt with them head on. Where do they convene?"

"Lyanna," Otherys said, turning to his companion. "Surely your man doesn't mean to walk straight into their stronghold. The mere thought is ludicrous."

"It wouldn't be the first time he's done something stupid," Lyanna, his stalwart defender, shrugged. "He must have some sort of plan."

"But even with a plan-" Otherys began to protest only for Osric to cut him off.

"Enough Otherys!" The Lord Commander barked. "There's no sense trying to dissuade him. He has the look of a determined man. He wouldn't have shrugged off this threat so casually if he didn't truly believe that he could deal with whatever the Faceless Men throw at him."

"But Osric-"

"Now Harry," Osric began, ignoring Otherys complaint. "Their convent, the House of Black and White, sits upon a rocky knoll made of dark grey stone. It is located…"

0ooo0oooo0ooo0

"I think that this is the place," Harry muttered to his companion as they walked up a flight of stairs leading up to the dark grey stone temple. "It's hidden well enough."

After the feast, Osric had one of his men row them to the secluded area and Harry could already see why many people were apprehensive about it.

"Of course, this is it," his partner replied. "Do you see any other building with doors like these?"

The moon carvings on the weirwood and ebony doors were certainly unique and a clear sign that they were in the right place.

"Let's just get on with it," Harry shrugged, pushing the doors open. Or he tried to. No matter how hard he pushed, they remained firmly shut. He couldn't even unlock the door with the unlocking charm as it didn't have a lock. "What the-"

"You have to say the words," Lyanna hissed. "Otherys told us that we had to say Valar Morghulis to enter. Did you already forget?"

As soon as she said the words, the doors opened on their own. Not one to waste time, Harry prudently cast the human revealing charm to reveal any and every individual in the room. From the outlines visible, he saw a few women sitting on a bench and noticed half a dozen lying on stone beds while three others cloaked in white and black robes watched on. Disappointed by the lack of activity, he advanced into the dark chamber, past the long rows of stone benches and several statues until he came upon a pool. This pool, filled with black liquid, was at least ten feet across and was surrounded by cups. Harry was just about ready to crouch down and pick up one of them when someone in the room came up to him.

"I do not believe it would be wise of you to be drinking from this pool," the cowled man said to him softly. "This pool is only for those who have made the decision. If you had then I apologize for interrupting your journey. It's not every day that we receive foreign visitors here."

"I can see why," Harry retorted, laughing forcibly as he tightened his grip on his wand. "This place is in a very secluded area. It's a wonder you receive any visitors at all…" Looking again, he noticed that there was a lot more than half a dozen people resting on the cots. He briefly wondered why his spell failed to pick them up. It was then that he realized that they were all dead.

"All those who come here, come on their own behalf," the man replied, his robed arms spread wide. "This is a place of peace. It's not meant to be alluring and beautiful. If you're interested in such then Braavos is full of delights and wonders. Have you seen our mighty Titan? Have you basked in the beauty of the Black Pearl? I'm told that both are sights to behold."

"Yeah, I've already seen her and your Titan," Harry muttered, his eyes darting around the chamber as he looked for any other threats. "This was the last place that I wanted to visit. It's not everyday one gets an opportunity to enter the House of Black and White."

"I see…" the man murmured. "Is there- Ah! Is there another reason you've come to visit us?"

"That all depends," Harry replied, moving so that he was standing in front of Lyanna. He didn't like the brief pause the man took as she sidled up next to him.

"Depends on what?" The cowled man asked, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his robes.

"It depends on whether you've accepted a contract from the Iron Throne or not," Harry replied, his wand already swishing by his side as he prepared to stop the man should he make any untoward movement.

"Ah yes… I remember such a contract…" the man murmured, his cowl bobbing as if the man underneath was nodding. "We've never received one quite like it. We had to turn it down because the target's description was insufficient. We are a very precise order. We can hardly go around killing every single black-haired, green-eyed man accompanying Lyanna Stark now, can we?"

"You could try," Harry whispered daringly, his wand poised to hang the man by his ankles. "But I don't think that you'd be very successful."

"No," the man agreed after a moment's pause. "No, I didn't think so either. That's why we deemed it wasn't his time to meet He of Many-Faces."

"He of Many-Faces?" Harry repeated, glancing around at the many statues that lined the chamber. "What is that a reference to?"

"Death," the man replied, removing his cowl and revealing a yellow skull with a worm wriggling out of his eye socket.

"That's interesting," Harry frowned, flicking a non-verbal finite incantatem to try and dispel whatever disguise the man used. It worked as the skull disappeared and revealed a smiling old man.

"Indeed," the man murmured, feeling his face. "That's the first time that has ever happened. What did you do? I felt something wash over my face and dissolve my glamour."

"Ask me no questions and I tell you no lies," Harry deflected, mentally chuckling as he stealthily hid his wand.

"If one wishes to learn then one must also be willing to share," the old man sagely claimed, bobbing his head.

"I think I'll manage just fine on my own," Harry smirked, glad to be able to relax a little.

"If you're not interested in our secrets and you're not here to accept the gift then what are you doing here?" The old man asked, clearly befuddled.

"That's what I've been wondering all along," Lyanna muttered from his side.

"I was led to believe that you had accepted a contract for my head," Harry retorted, elbowing Lyanna. "I wanted to see if I could do something to dissuade you from trying to complete it. Failing that, I would have resorted to other means to force your compliance…"

"And who told you that we received this contract?" the man prodded, seemingly unbothered by his threat. "These matters are kept secret- Ah! That's right… Otherys' niece was here when the messenger came by. He must've heard it from her and shared it with you when went to the barracks."

"Got it in one," Harry frowned, intrigued by how this man had come to such a conclusion so easily. If his girls had such skills then gathering information would be simple. "How'd you guess?"

"Hm?" the man smiled smugly. "How did you put it again? Ah… That's right. Ask me no questions and I tell you no lies."

"Right," Harry scowled, staring directly into the man's eyes as he prepared to use legillimency on him. "I guess I'll just have to see for myself."

Sadly, as was becoming the norm in this world, he couldn't read any of the man's thoughts. All he could see was a blank, empty space. He imagined that was what Snape had been trying to help him achieve. It made him think off their lessons and the time he had managed to catch glimpses of Snape's life.

"Curious," the man's voice cut through his stroll down memory lane. "Very curious."

"Fucking hell," Harry groaned, remembering the downside of legillimency. He had left himself open to similar invasion. "Shit… Don't tell me…"

"That's not something you see every day," the man said, confirming his fears. "You're right not to be afraid of us. I don't think there's anyone in this world that could cause you harm."

"Bugger," he groaned, palming his face. He couldn't even obliviate the man as he needed to be able to breach his mental defences. "What did you see?"

"Not as much as I would've like," the man admitted. "But enough to know that killing you would be extremely difficult. I'd imagine it'd take a well coordinated attack but even then you could fly away or vanish in the blink of an eye."

Harry could only shake his head as he began to walk away. He couldn't believe that his attempt to learn more about the man had backfired.

"I wonder… What do you intend to do with that brothel you've purchased?" The man asked, following behind him. "The one by the Purple Harbour?"

"It must've cost you a fortune to pry it from the Nightingale's hands," the man continued when Harry didn't deign to reply. "But then again, I'm sure you could have just forced her to accept whatever you offered her with your sorcery."

"I didn't do anything of the sort!" Harry snapped angrily, rounding on the man. "I don't take advantage of people like that!"

"So that means you could have if you truly wanted to," the man remarked, getting the better of him again. "That's truly extraordinary… How does it feel to be so young and possess such power?"

"I can't fucking believe this…" Harry gaped disbelievingly. He couldn't stay here and speak with this man any longer. The more he said, the more the man learned. "Come on, Lyanna! Let's go! We're leaving!"

"Personally, I would've purchased one in Ragman's Harbour," the man said to their retreating backs. "It would have been cheaper and much more accessible. It'd also be much easier to gather information from those sailors."

Freezing in place, Harry turned back to face the smiling man. "What do you want?"

"I believe we could help one another," the man smiled.

"How do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"You teach us some of your secrets and I'll help you gather information on this Summer Islander you're searching for," the man replied.

"I have a better proposition," Harry chuckled, glad that the man had misinterpreted the memories he had seen. "Do you have some place where we can speak of this privately?"


Thanks for reading. Next chapter we'll return to Winterfell. I hope you've enjoyed.