A.N: Hey guys and girls, thank you for reading and all your reviews.
I hate author's notes when I read fanfics but I want to clear a few things up for the questions been given to me and so here are a few things I think you should know.
Yes I have edited the timeline, for example Robert rebellion in the book was less than a year to which I have changed it to suit my story to three years.
The ages of characters shall stay the same as in the books when they start e.g. a game of thrones book 1 of a song of ice and fire books series. Harry for obvious reason is an exception however I talk about his age within the story. An example of ages (when a book 1; a game of thrones starts):
Starks and their wards -
Robb: aged 15 Jon: aged 15 Sansa: aged 11 Bran: aged 7 Arya: aged 9 Rickon: aged 3 Theon Greyjoy: aged 19 'Big' Walder Frey: aged 6 'Little' Walder Frey; aged 6
Joffrey: aged 13 Myrcella: aged 8 Tommen: aged 6
Viserys: aged 23 Daenerys: aged 13
No the pairing is not Harry/Daenerys as of yet. The pairings as of yet is undecided except obvious exceptions.
About dialogue at this moment there is little dialogue to show Harrys confusion of being in a new world where he doesn't understand the language and has not yetpassed the language barrier and started learning the different tongues of Westeros nor Essos.
Same as above the lack of inner thought is to show the confusion and at the moment I have got the story moving at a very fast pace, it moves month to month rather than day to day and so it shows the passing of time and the lack of any greater thought at the time.
No I won't have Harry teach anyone 'English'
Harry shall learn magic, I shan't say when however and if it is the magic of his home world or of westeros or his own
The time line as of yet is before A Game of Thrones so the characters ages are younger at the moment however for those who haven't read the books or watched the tv series; it starts when Robert Baratheon enters Winterfell with his entourage.
Now there's the end of that long authors note. Now onto the story hope you enjoy and review
The years flew by in little to no time for the young seven year old, his father had returned home and peace hung heavily in the air after the years of winter and war. The two boys his father brought with him; one a boy named Jon, his bastard brother who was almost a year younger than himself and a muscle toned teen named Harry. Harry was a boy of little worth, he couldn't even speak common let alone any other language any of them had heard of before including maester Luwin.
Harry spent most days with the maester. Trying to learn common, maester Luwin pointing out things within his solar and study saying them and having the boy repeat until they became second nature on his tongue. It was a long winded process, the boy was very intelligent according to his father and maester Luwin but Robb couldn't see it. The boy would sup at the end of the hall eat his fill and leave to the room given to him by his Lord father. He helped out when he wasn't learning that was true. He helped in the stables saddling horses, in the smithy passing tools or hammering horse shoes ate into the night, in the kitchen by bringing in game he had caught himself. Harry had made himself an invaluable member of the Stark household and yet Robb would mistrust him until he could talk with him, laugh and jest in good humour or nought.
Having ate his fill when breaking his fast Robb made his way out into the yard readying himself for the drills that ser Rodrik would have Jon and him make to strengthen their sword arms and help them learn balance when holding a blade or shooting a bow or any kind of weapon found within Winterfells vast armoury. He was a better swordsman and rider than his bastard brother Jon but Jon always made the fights more difficult as of late catching up with him when it came to swords at least. Harry however had a much greater grasp on swords than any teen he had ever met. He knew how to slash and swipe, thrust and parry and control the field, yet he was hardly ever allowed to train due to his need to learn his words and spellings. Lucky for the teen his spellings came much quicker than his words he could write in short sentences now which made it easier now after months of learning for Luwin to teach him his words.
Robb had been having less of his own lessons thanks to his fathers need of Luwin to teach the boy Harry. Of all this made him content with the boy around, he still got taught his numbers and tactics and maps but never to such a great depth or time that he got bored and restless as he used to. He missed the times he spent with Luwin, not what they brought with them however.
His father had taken to the boy as well. It was unlike him, commoners always said his father was a hard man made of ice, with a kindness within him true, but ice none the less to those he did not know. He would welcome men within his hall, let them eat his food and drink his mead, giving all the niceties that those who had the privilege to sup with him deserved due to their station but he would not talk with them as he would with those he knew.
The winter was finally passed and spring was in bloom. Trees and flowers he had never seen came to bloom. Igniting the surrounding woods and field with colours that had once been but a bleak white field, muddy brown trees and darkness. Robb liked the newness to the world that was brought with the spring, he loved the colours and the warmness of the sun that before had been but a consolation due to the snow. He however, like all Starks, knew winter was once more coming.
"septong" … "septi"…. "septon" the words felt heavy in his mouth." Again like that boy"
Harry had been at this for months and he still felt like a new-born babe learning to talk. Words came to him easily but putting them in sentences that was an entirely different matter. His teacher; maester Luwin was a kindly old man, he had learnt through long days and months of his teachings to understand he was somewhat a wise man/servant who lived and worked for the long faced man and his family. Through the months his understanding of the languages being taught to him grew vastly, he understood that learning the language so quick was unnatural. No man, woman or child could learn the languages as fast as him and to such a degree that it sounded like his first language. He had learnt common, valyrian or the bastardisation of it anyways, high valyrian, asshai'i. he had also learnt bits of the old tongue from reading the glyphs around winterfell and dothraki from one of the long faced man's many friends; a worn looking man wrapped in bar furs.
He held back on informing the good maester his knowledge and prowess at languages. It allowed him more time to see what kind of people these northerners, as he came to hear the region at one point, were. So far he had found a great love for the people and their simplistic lives, growing fond of the cool breeze jumping over the castles high walls and the sight of snow in the distance forests.
He had yet to travel from the castle, he was becoming bored of the monogamy of his lessons and the same routine day after day. One night he snuck out of his chambers and ran to the nearby village looking at the locked away goods within the stalls set up in the market, scanning the fields at the crops growing and chasing away a fox gnawing in its attempt to catch them. The village was peaceful; he sat on a small bridge gaping the two shores of a rivers together as he looked at the stars. It wasn't until he felt a hand o his shoulder did he rise, fumbling with his furs searching for a weapon to defend himself from whoever grabbed his panic he shouted out in perfect common "let go of me."
"calm down young one, since when could you speak common so greatly"
Harry looked around in panic to find the Lord Stark, hand still on his shoulder looking at his serenely.
"I was just erm… Ive been able im sorry my Lord"
"sorry is not a word I was expecting for an answer. How long have you been able to speak common"
"a few week" Harry lied easily. It had been months since he learnt but Lord Stark didn't need to know that.
"Now that you can talk boy, what is your name?"
"It's Harold my Lord, just Harold but everyone calls me Harry" having already decided on the lengthening of his name.
"well Harold now is not the time for star gazing. Sleep awaits you and I, for tomorrow is now for the learning of wielding a sword, bow, horse, tactics and so on. You shall learn with my sons and allow Luwin some peace from mothering over you. It would seem his attempts at teaching you were far greater than he could ever imagine"
"Thank you my Lord, but if I may? Why are you helping me and allowing me to stay and feeding me and all the other things you've done for me?"
"calm down lad, I allow you to stay because I see in you great potential and I feel it in my bones as I can feel the winter is once more on approach. Winter after all is coming."
The cloudless sky was greeted by birds chirping as Jon woke. He allowed himself a bit of time to himself before getting up and readying himself to break his fast. Dining on black sausage, bacon, bread and a mug of beer to wash it down, he was soon outside with his brother and surprisingly the boy, he had taken to calling shadow in his mind.
Ser Rodrikc ame out of the armoury arms laden with an assortment of weapons; many were slimmer lighter swords or wooden staff that would allow him and Robb to wield them. He also brought out a short sword and a larger sword that towered over his head.
"ok lads its sword practice to start with, Harold I want you swinging this at that dummy over there so I can gauge how well you handle a sword and where you need improvements"
Jon looked around searching for the by Harold Ser Rodrik mentioned. It wasn't until he followed the man's eyes did he find them upon 'shadow'
"alright then ser, I'll get to it"
Jon watched in amazement as the boy flew into a battle pose, slashing and stabbing at the dummy in a flowing movement. He never stood still but moved with the blade allowing its weight to do the downward swings and then following it up with quick slashes and brutal stabs. Never had Jon seen such an unusually beautiful method of swordsmanship. Men twice the boy's age didn't look as at home with a blade as the boy did carrying his blunted shortsword.
It had been months since the boy had been able to talk. Jon found a companion, like himself an outcast of the Stark household unable to sit at the head table with the other Stark children due to his bastardy birth and Harry's unknown origins. He knew from watching and listening that the boy had a haunted past. Servants whispered of his cries in the middle of the night, shouting out for help, shouting for his uncle to stop, shouting for salvation that only came with the sun breaking the night sky sending his chilling night terrors away.
Harry had been teaching Robb and himself little tricks to wielding their swords better, making it easier for their shorter frames. How simple twists of the wrist to baring your joints at certain times allowed for greater use of the blade still amazed him, and to be taught by one who is but a few years older made it more amazing still, Sir Rodrik hadn't even taught of the moves and yet he was Winterfells master of arms.