Dragonlord (HP × ASOIAF)

The sound of hooves thundered across the Kingsroad, stretching out into the Neck until it came to a halt once the incomplete towering towers came into view.

"It looks intimidating." said Jon, staring at the completed portion of Moat Cailin from the northern side of the castle.

"Not as half as intimidating as it used to be." Harry said, smiling as he laid eyes on one of the most strategically important castles in the North, "But it soon will be."

Harry looked down at the valley ahead, holding the swampland of the Neck and the castle of Moat Cailin that stands as the bulwark against any southern invaders. Even in its reduced state, Moat Cailin was an easily defensible castle against any southern army simply because of the swamp surrounding it for miles. Fighting in a swampland like this one was the nightmare of any marching army.

Yet, Harry remained determined to improve the living conditions around Moat Cailin for Jon's sake. He knew his brother deserved better than to reside in the midst of a swamp. The northern parts of the swamp, largely caused by flooding due to rain, were not the contribution of the Fever River. The occasional flooding in the Neck also spilt over the excess water into the southern part of the castle, leaving the land muddy and swamp-like. This led to the destruction of the Kingsroad on numerous occasions. He knew it so well because the workers had complained that the Kingsroad would go underwater once it rained in the area, making it impossible for them to transport stone to Moat Cailin.

This was the same complaint some merchants had with the Neck, but they knew when to traverse the road. After all, rains were seasonal, and the merchants knew to avoid the rainy season when they travelled to the North. At first, paving the roads with stone slabs delivered better transit along the neck, but repeated rains and flooding caused much damage to parts of the road.

"Come on, lads. Let's go ahead before the rest of 'em catch up with us," Smalljon Umber hollered, his boisterous voice echoing across the landscape.

The heir to Last Hearth rode away on his horse towards the castle with no care.

"Hold on." Harry stopped his brothers and other heirs of the Northern houses from joining Smalljon. "Just wait and watch."

It didn't take long for Smalljon to encounter a small problem. The road ahead through the swamp was underwater, and it became increasingly difficult to see where the road was on the ground. So, it took only a matter of time before they saw Smalljon let out a loud yelp before falling down with his horse into the swamp.

"The Neck has been subject to heavy rain for the last two weeks. Please don't charge headfirst into the castle. This will be the result." Harry nodded at Smalljon, who climbed to his feet with some effort but was covered in mud like his horse.

"All right, Stark. We'll follow you." said Torrhen Karstark. 

"If we follow Harry, we'll be far worse off than Smalljon." Robb snickered.

"Well, he's not wrong." Harry admitted with a grin while turning his eyes on the Reed siblings. "Time for you two to step in."

Under the careful guidance of Meera and Jojen and the few Crannogmen that accompanied them, they traversed the treacherous road ahead. Being native to the Neck, the Crannogmen and the Reed siblings were competent in safely traversing the swamp.

"Despite owning the land around Moat Cailin, we have no idea how to travel in the swamp, and that's sad." said Harry.

"You do one thing, Harry. You stay in the castle and travel back and forth across the swamp and then teach us what you learned." Robb said with a snicker.

Harry rolled his eyes at his twin's piss-poor attempt at a joke.

"How about I just drain the swamp and make the land dry?" Harry asked.

"You can do that...?" Robb asked with surprise before realisation flashed in his eyes, "Of course you can. You can cut a canal through the Neck. Draining a swamp would be as easy as breathing."

"Not as easy as you might think." Harry said with a shrug as their horses carefully trotted through the swamp, "It'll require many small canals to be cut in this place and let the water naturally drain away."

"Really! No magical remedies are available to solve the swamp problem?" Jon asked curiously.

"There is." Harry said shortly.

"Well... what is it?" Robb asked eagerly.

"I could cut the canals using magic." Harry answered, enjoying the disappointed look on his brother's face.

"Well, that's not any fun." Robb muttered.

"If you're after fun, brother, it all starts there." Harry pointed at the castle ahead.

While everyone was sceptical of his claim about having any fun in the swampy unfinished castle of Moat Cailin, they realised he was not bluffing during the night. The mosquito-infested swamp was not exactly a picnic spot, and the incomplete construction of the castle meant they had to depend on erecting tents. Harry put up a wide area shield along with a repelling charm that made their area free from rain to ensure rain didn't mess up their short stay in the region.

Like in Winterfell, a feast was held to commence the celebration, and Harry provided the 'fun' by popping bottles of spiced ale from Pentos, Tyrosh and Dorne. If he had known the secret ingredients used to make Firewhisky, he'd have gone ahead and made that old delicacy. Unfortunately, he was not an expert in the ingredients or methods used to fix magical drinks, which was a shame.

But the spiced ale and wine he brought from abroad was enough of a fun experience for the night as the Northern lords and their families enjoyed the revelry. It was made all the better with bards and mummers reenacting scenes from old folktales about the Children of the Forest and kings of the past. There were many songs he liked, especially The Wolves in the Hills and The Burning of the Ships. Harry's favourite of the evening was a play about Theon Stark the Hungry Wolf. The man was the first King in the North who united the entire North to face the Andal invasion. He liked this particular Stark king for the man's numerous military victories. If it wasn't for Theon Stark, the North couldn't have survived one of the most precarious times in Westerosi history. It was no simple feat to unite the warring regions of the North under one crown and face numerous foreign enemies like the Andals and the Ironborn.

He didn't know why, but the story of Theon Stark crossing the Narrow Sea to burn the Andal towns and villages to dissuade them further, launching invasions into Westeros, struck him deeply.

'Perhaps it is because of my own naivete to see the threat of muggles too late…' Harry frowned as unpleasant memories he had long suppressed came to the forefront of his mind, accompanying that train of thought. 

Harry sneaked away from the campfires, bards and plays being done inside the castle and found a secluded spot where he could watch the sky. The canal was only the latest attempt from his side to show the might and greatness of magic to the people. His true goal, however, remained at the forefront of his mind. He wanted magic to be accepted in the North and build a nation so distinct that it celebrates the power and usefulness of magic. He wanted magic to become something inalienable in the North so that it could sustain and thrive for thousands of years.

'Magic will spread across Westeros in good time and become integral to all kingdoms.' Harry mused.

He didn't know whether he'd be alive to see his plans come to fruition. After all, the current scope of his planning was on a fifty-year timeframe for the North. Anything could happen within such a short time. Despite the initial acceptance of magic and whatnot, he knew there were elements within the North that'd provide stiff resistance to the changes he brought. In the future, he expected more resistance to form, especially when those with magical power start to exert their dominance in the land.

It was an inevitable event as far as Harry was concerned. Those with magic would ask themselves why they're being ruled by those without. That fundamental question would undoubtedly change the current hierarchy in the North. Unless, of course, the Northern houses suddenly started to develop magical power in their bloodlines.

Harry didn't know whether he'd live long enough to see all that. His immortality was in flux as of now. He still held the allegiance of the three Hallows in his soul, but he didn't know whether the Hallows granted him power over his own flesh. From what he had seen, his body was ageing like any normal human. Therefore, there was no reason to assume he retained immortality of the flesh.

He was certainly not invulnerable. At least, he knew that for sure. 

The uncertainty of his immortality or mortality was why he was intent on maximising the number of the magical populace and training them in the arts of different magical disciplines. He had already started a small school for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, which was for both magical and non-magical people. That particular school ran in a hall of Castle Avalon intended to raise a new generation of runemasters. Rune craft was one of the primal arts of wizardkind, easily transferable to non-magical people, and it was already proving to be quite useful. More and more improvements were being made in glass-making thanks to some experimentation in the runes already employed in the process.

One day, he hoped there'd be enough magical blood in the North to charge all those runes his people were craving. Right now, it was either him, his students or the Valkyrie capable of charging the runes.

Thinking of his Valkyrie guards made him remember that he ought to find suitable matches for those women. They couldn't be allowed to spend their time guarding him for the rest of their lives. Their magic had developed under his tutelage, and he hoped their progeny would be born with the blessing of magic. They were not as strong in magic as Jon or himself, but their blood was potent.

Of course, that also raised the question of what to do with the Valkyrie as a whole, especially the bows in Valkyrie possession.

Harry was broken out of his musings when his pocket warmed up almost unnaturally.

'The two-way mirror.' Harry realised.

He immediately took out the shrunken mirror from his pocket and enlarged it with a touch of magic. The mirror's surface rippled before Anya's face appeared on the mirror.

"My lord. It's done. The runestone has done its work." said Anya with a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. 

He could see the excitement on Anya's face. He supposed the runestone worked quite splendidly, just like it did wonders in Avalon.

"Good. I take it the mining along the surveyed land has been checked."

"Yes, my lord. There is no mistake. Everything is in place."

"Hmm. You'll have till tomorrow afternoon. Check everything once more. Ensure the runestones are synced and responding naturally to the master runestone. I take it the bridge is also complete and reinforced."

"Yes, my lord. The bridge has been successfully placed and reinforced." Anya said, bobbing her head.

"Good. Then, we'll see you tomorrow." 

Harry cut off the transmission to the Liberator and went back to stargazing. Thankfully, the rain clouds had dispersed in the sky, showing the stars in the night sky, but the wind still persisted. It was a beautiful night, and he hoped the days ahead would be as fruitful for his family as they are today.

*****

Jon was amused to see Robb and Theon were being reprimanded by Lord Stark for being drunk out of their minds. Last night, Robb and Theon had become so drunk that they stumbled into the Mormont's tents and pretended to be wolves. He laughed so hard when he saw a howling Robb and Theon escorted out by Lady Maege Mormont and her daughters. It was quite the satirical sight and a treat to his eyes.

Somehow, Robb and Theon got it into their minds that they could find a bear in the Mormonts' tent and hire it to play the flute or dance or some such nonsense. Either way, Lord Stark and Lady Mormont were not amused even though Jon found it hilarious. He suspected he'd have ended up as drunk as Robb and Theon if he hadn't spent the night by the side of Sansa and Arya.

It was morning, and everyone in Moat Cailin was drunk out of their minds, not just Robb and Theon. It took the Northmen till afternoon to get out of the grip of spiced ale and wine Harrion brought from abroad. Thankfully, everyone was ready to see the canal coming to fruition by afternoon and they set out north from their camp.

"How is Harry going to make the canal?" Arya asked.

Jon sighed for the umpteenth time as he faced the question from Arya once again. The worst part was he couldn't just ride away because Arya was riding with him on his horse.

"Using runes, I suppose." he answered clandestinely as if sharing a great secret.

"I know that too. I want to know more details." Arya whined.

"Why don't you ask Harry? He's the one who knows it all." Jon said tiredly.

"He runs away whenever I ask about it." Arya complained, "He knows I hate secrets, but he loves to annoy me." 

"Believe it or not, he does that to everyone." Jon said with a shake of his head.

"Even you?" Arya looked surprised.

"Even me." Jon nodded.

Arya looked at her brother suspiciously.

"I don't believe you. Harry wouldn't do anything without telling you. You're lying to me." Arya accused while shooting him a displeased stare. 

"I was only asked to help with carving some runes. Besides, we're nearly there. You can see how it unfolds with your own eyes soon enough."

"Then at least ride faster." Arya demanded.

Jon sighed and caved in to his little sister's demand. He urged his horse forward and rode ahead of the column. He couldn't help but chuckle when Arya made faces at Robb and Theon as they p[assed them by. Strangely enough, he realised Harry was nowhere to be seen.

'Hmm. He must've ridden ahead.' Jon thought.

It didn't take long for Jon to notice a significant change in the landscape. The road ahead was slightly upturned, and the land had almost risen. It felt like he was riding up a slope as he moved forward until he came across a huge stone bridge.

"A bridge? But there was no bridge here before." Arya said, confused.

His sister was not the only one confused. Jon was similarly confused, but for entirely another reason. He knew there was a need for a bridge across the canal, but he could see no canal. But he noted the bridge was built quite high from the ground, and the slope he was experiencing made sense. The entire land on the south side of the bridge had risen somehow, while the land below the bridge had sunken. It felt like his eyes were playing a trick on him.

"I suppose this bridge is supposed to go across the canal." Jon muttered.

"But I don't see a canal. Isn't there supposed to be water in the canal?" Arya asked as she looked around for any evidence of a canal.

"Well, let's see for ourselves." Jon said as he urged the horse forward and rode into the bridge.

As he drew closer, Jon noticed that the stone bridge was unlike ordinary stone bridges. It had no blemishes on its surface. It was as if the bridge was a monolith structure. The bridge was wide enough for many carts to go back and forth simultaneously. By his estimation, it looked like the bridge was over fifty feet wide. The floor was neat and unblemished. It was entirely made out of smooth stone. It reminded him of the smooth castle walls of Avalon.

But the fascinating details didn't end there. There was a small running garden by the side of the bridge on both sides. There were also protective railings running on both sides.

"Is this bridge as long as the Wall?" Arya asked.

"I doubt it. But this was built by Harry. He might…."

"It's less than a thousand feet." Harry said, startling Jon and Arya.

They turned around on the horse and saw Harry standing behind them.

"When did you…?" Jon started.

"I was waiting here all along. I told you to always be on alert. That ring on your finger is not for decoration, you know." Harry scolded.

Jon groaned upon hearing the usual advice from his brother.

"Don't be lazy, brother. The most dangerous enemy attacks when our guard is down." said Harry.

"I doubt there are any enemies on this newly constructed bridge." Jon grumbled reproachfully as he climbed down from his horse and helped Arya dismount as well.

Thankfully, Harry never got to reply as Arya started throwing question after question about the bridge and the canal. Jon amusedly watched as Harry struggled to keep Arya appraised while at the same time not answering some things.

"When did you build the bridge? I don't think it was here when we passed through." Jon asked as they waited for the rest of the Northerners to catch up.

"It was built last day." Harry said with a shrug.

Jon didn't ask more because, as far as magical feats were concerned, this was relatively mild given what he knew about Harry's skill with magic.

"Oh, look! They're here." Arya pointed south and shouted excitedly.

Sure enough, Jon could see everyone had arrived. The Stark direwolf could be seen fluttering in the distance, and he could make out Robb riding ahead with Theon and other Northern heirs.

Once everyone had come aboard the bridge, Harry, under pressure from incessant nagging from Arya, started the carving of the Sunset Canal.

There was no flashy magic involved in the process, to his sister's disappointment. Harry merely plucked an ordinary stone from his pocket and tapped it with his ring. The runes carved on the stone started to glow as magic flowed through the runestone.

Jon watched with bated breath like everyone else as Harry held out the glowing runestone over the bridge's railing and dropped it unceremoniously to the ground below. His gaze followed the eerily glowing runestone all the way to the bottom of the bridge, where it simply disappeared.

Once the runestone touched the ground, there was a tremendous rumbling sound as if a thunderstorm was brewing in the distance. Suddenly, the earth below was gouged apart before his eyes. As far as his eyes could see, the earth below the bridge was gouged out, and the topsoil vanished into thin air. From east to west from the bridge, this happened before their eyes.

They looked around in wonder as a wide, lengthy crater formed on the ground below, stretching out for leagues as far as their eyes could see. Jon picked up on a distant rumble from the east when the fervour over the gouged earth died down. When he looked east from the bridge, he saw muddy water gushing out sporadically along the length of the canal.

"The sea?" Jon asked doubtfully, looking curiously at Harry.

"No, not yet. This is just some local water source. It'll take time for the sea to arrive." said Harry.

However, it didn't take too long for the sea to rush in from the south. Before the sunset, the canal was teeming with water, but there were no tides as he had expected. The water in the canal was almost calm and controlled for it to be the sea. The sea he had seen so far was untameable and ripe with tides.

He shook off such thoughts away in favour of joining the revelry. He was sure there was much more to the canal than just having water flowing through it and a bridge across it. He knew his brother never did things halfway. But he was patient to see what other secrets the Sunset Canal held.