Hadrian Snow
The meal hall within the Tower of the Hand was smaller than one might expect, made so the Hand of the King could dine with his family, guests, courtiers, along with the other occupants of the tower if he so chose. For his uncle, Ned had chosen to dine regularly with Harry at his side at the head table, with the various other residents of the tower also breaking their fasts with them.
If there were more important guests to be entertained at mealtime, a feast would typically be held within Maegor's Holdfast, or even in the throne room itself. But there would be no grand feasting these days, especially when their schedules were kept busy with a war brewing outside the city's walls.
Even the regularly occurring banquets within the Red Keep were kept to a minimum, partly because of food shortages, but also because they didn't want to antagonize the smallfolk. The news that King Tommen was feasting while the city's residents starved would see riots breakout, and so the Lords all had to limit themselves.
Around them, servants delivered their meager breakfasts of eggs and pork, as Harry struggled to wipe the sleep from his eyes. This morning was a slower one than usual, and It was only through groggy eyes that he remembered to check his meal for poisons, his drink flashing red as to alert him. Wait-
He hastily turned to the side where Ned was about to take a sip of his own drink, and his fist shot out to slap the cup out of his uncle's hand. Ned sputtered, as those present turned to see what the commotion was about, but Harry was already on the move. He vaulted over the table, knocking the food and drinks onto the floor in the process.
If one was to look closely, steam erupted from where the liquid splashed onto the ground. Wine or water simply wasn't supposed to do such a thing, meaning it was poisoned by someone.
Ned looked outraged. "Harry? What maddness has-"
"Nobody drink or eat anything!" He yelled out, cutting him off. "Our meals have been poisoned!"
Guards were immediately on their feet and alert as some cursed, meanwhile the maids screamed in fright. Cups were overturned and food dumped onto the floor below, but Harry was already blitzing out of the room in a hurry to find the culprit.
He pushed a maid aside and sprinted into the servant's hallway that led down into the tower's kitchen. It was only once he ran inside that he saw the cooking staff acting normally, other than a cloaked man making his way out the room's back entrance before shutting the door behind him.
Harry chased after him, causing several cooks to stumble along with some angered yelling as he burst through the back door and into a store room that was empty other than the piles of raw meat and other foodstuffs set up on shelves.
"Homenum Revelio." A golden light highlighted the surrounding humans in his vicinity, with the spell revealing one man standing behind a stone wall immediately to his right.
A secret passage. Harry turned and began searching for a way in, eventually finding a loose stone that pushed down and caused the wall to open up.
By the time the guards caught up to him, Harry was already dragging the assailant out. The man's hood was soon pulled down and a long white beard along with a clanky chain was exposed to the world.
"Grand Maester Pycelle." It was the Hand of the King who spoke those words, watching angrily as the Stark guardsmen restrained the old Maester. "It seems that you were the one to poison us."
"P-Pardon, my Lord, but I simply don't know what you're talking about." Pycelle played the fool, even if they knew it was an act.
"Then what would this be?" Harry had discreetly searched the Grand Maester already, pulling out a vial from his pocket that was full of suspicious liquid.
"T-That would be a simple concoction to help with using the chamber pot." He stammered out the lie.
"Really?" Harry asked in interest, uncorking it and bringing the vial towards the Maester's mouth. "Why don't you give it a try then?"
He made to dump the entire vial in Pycelle's mouth, as the old man panicked. "N-No, don't! Spare me!"
"That's enough." Ned reprimanded, although Harry's point was made. "Tell me, why did you try and kill me and my nephew, Grand Maester? And don't bother lying and denying it. I may be an honorable man, but I am not above making use of the back cells and letting the royal torturers do their work."
"W-Why M-My Lord, I-I-I… I am e-ever loyal to the crown and the K-King! Y-You must believe me—" Pycelle stumbled over his words in an agonizing fashion that made Harry grind his teeth.
"Enough of this act!" He seethed. "Drag him down to the cells and we'll hang him on the morrow!"
"Mercy!" Pycelle exclaimed in terror. "P-Please, my Lord Hand, I'll tell you anything!"
"Why did you try and kill us?" Ned demanded, equally looking fed-up with the man. "Do not make me ask again."
"The Citadel bade me do it, my Lord, t-the other Maesters wish for this war to be over." Pycelle stammered out, before he glanced at Harry darkly. "And they are especially concerned over the reports of magic coming from your nephew. I-I was ordered to remove him. Please, I dare not disobey the other Archmaesters!"
Harry felt his brows rise at that, wondering if Pycelle truly was telling the truth. It would mean they were in deep shit if the Citadel had truly decided to throw their full weight behind Renly, as the implications alone were staggering.
Every Lord and castle throughout Westeros had a Maester after all, and even if some of the learned men were traitors, it could result in nothing but disaster. Important ravens could go unsent, messages manipulated, all by the robed men who were supposedly neutral and trusted for centuries.
And then there was the part about Harry's magic. Even Maester Luwin back in Winterfell was dubious of magic, dismissing tales of wargs and giants beyond the Wall as mere mummery. Pycelle seemed of similar mind, going as far as to openly show his dislike of Harry for his usage of magic. And now it seemed it was all a part of a greater conspiracy involving the Citadel, prompted by their supposed dislike of magic.
"Yes, I suppose they would be concerned." Ned rubbed his jaw in thought. "Even as a boy, I heard tales of how it was the Citadel who poisoned and killed off House Targaryen's remaining dragons, motivated by their scorn for all things magic. But to go this far…"
Harry had never heard that particular theory before, and judging by the way Pycelle remained silent, it might even be true.
"I've heard enough." Ned stated at last. "Put him on the next ship to Eastwatch."
"N-No! Mercy, my Lord! I-I only—" The men-at-arms dragged the useless Maester away, even as he stammered and begged for mercy.
/////
There was only so much to do in a besieged city, as tensions were ever high leading to a man sitting around bored and stressed at what might come. And so Harry had indulged heavily in the pleasures of the flesh, taking Val night after night once his long days came to an end.
But even that wasn't enough, as soon he became a regular visitor to Maegor's Holdfast, taking part in Cersei's orgies with her handmaidens. Distrustful of the Lannister Queen he might be, but Harry could hardly resist such a beautiful woman who was desperate for his cock. And even when he wasn't fucking the Queen, the other Ladies present were some of the most beautiful women in the realm.
Even now, a fat, enticing brown booty shook with each thrust underneath him, his immense ballbag colliding against her crotch with each thrust as the Myrishwoman moaned. Taena Merryweather was a curvy and buxom woman, similar to Arianne in bodily proportions and looks but older, and supposedly with a husband Harry had yet to meet.
"O-Oh! P-Please keep going m-my Lord! You're cock feels so good!" Her voice came out throaty and loud, each of his thrusts driving the air from her lungs.
Even as her limbs grew tired and collapsed beneath her, he didn't care, using her body to the fullest until she broke and fell into exhaustion. There was no mercy to be had for the women Cersei kept, each devious and subservient to their harpy of a Queen.
Arms wrapped around him then, as Queen Cersei hugged him from behind. He could feel her big breasts pushing against his back, nipples erect, as her warm breaths tickled his ear.
Below him, Taena was a mess of sweat and womanly fluids, her cunt drenched and leaking arousal all over herself and the bed below. Meanwhile his thick shaft spread her wide, pushing her cheeks far apart and revealing the enticing sight of her pussy lips stretched obscenely around his thrusting manhood that pummeled her core.
"Yes, just like that." The Lannister Queen whispered in his ear. "Fuck this whore rough and hard. Your Queen demands it."
PLAP PLAP PLAP
"GAH! Oh! By the Mother!" Taena screamed as her body shook, as yet another orgasm ran through her.
But Harry didn't stop. He only kept going, his fingers digging harder into the supple flesh of her hips as his shaft swelled, his girth being hugged by tight walls with every thrust. His release was coming hard and quick, and a devious idea took place as it drew nearer.
"How can I deny my beautiful Queen." His lips turned into a cruel smirk.
He pulled out of her with a pop, his shaft twitching madly and swollen red as dense blobs of white cum erupted from his cockhead. He threw his head back in satisfaction as he hosed the Myrishwoman down, dominating her. Meanwhile his seed splattered all over her back, coating her tan skin in thick white splats of male seed.
Behind him, Cersei panted at the scene, watching with wide green eyes as her fingers desperately played with her core. And Harry was soon upon her, his cock pushed against her womanhood as he fell on top of her.
Their lips met hungrily, having plenty of space to fuck on such a large bed made for Queens. To the side, Taena was a sweaty and cum-covered mess as she struggled to recover. But Harry was focused on the Queen, who took a moment to catch her breath as their kiss ended.
"Marry me." Cersei's pupils were blown wide as she looked up at him then, making him pause in surprise. "Robert is dead. My son needs a father. And I want nothing more than to give birth using your seed."
She really is horny. It was genuinely shocking how such a spoiled and powerful woman could be so desperate for cock. Even after birthing three children, enjoying immense wealth, and a war that risked everything she owned, she was still obsessed with getting dicked down.
Unless this is just another ploy? If he were a lesser man - or bastard - he would've taken her up on the offer in an instant. But Harry could think rationally, and wondered if Cersei truly wanted to be with him, or if this was a scheme to get him under her control. Women in this world were ruthless after all, not above sleeping with powerful men in order to control them
"A bastard like me can hardly marry a Queen." He settled on saying.
"Yet you can marry that Martell whore?" Cersei hissed. "We can live here in this keep, have everything we want, and you can help me rule the realm."
"That does sound incredible." She smirked at his words, thinking him convinced, before that smirk soon turned into a confused frown. "But why would I choose that when I could have so much more?"
"What are you talking about?"
His hands greedily pawed at her breasts, his massive length rubbing against her as she gasped in delight. "I will soon rescue and marry Arianne Martell. And even if Dorne chooses not to enter the war, Renly is destined to lose. After that happens, your son will give me a position on his small council."
Her gaze hardened. "And if I refuse?"
His shaft rubbed against her cunt, as she squirmed against her will as wetness flowed out of her core.
"You won't." He smirked. "As being on the small council gives me an excuse to remain in this city, which means we can continue doing this."
/////
The lights of King's Landing were dim as the sun finally set, with only few stars being visible in the creeping night sky above. Wind swept in from the Blackwater with a chilly, eerie breeze that made his hairs stand on end.
Someone walked up beside him on the ramparts overlooking the capital of Westeros, being the person who had asked to meet him here.
"The small council cannot come to a decision for our next move." Ned Stark stated, keeping his voice quiet enough that only Harry could hear. Despite them being alone on this section of wall, his uncle was still being careful. "Renly's army is spread throughout the Riverlands and is withdrawing into the Crownlands, while Tywin and my son struggle to pursue him."
"He's still not giving battle then?" It seemed that since that first huge battle on the shores of the God's Eye, Renly had been opposed participating in such a large confrontation ever again.
As to why that was, one could only guess. Most believed that Renly's army couldn't suffer another huge loss as it would crush his army's morale, or that it was due to his lack of capable commanders. Randyll Tarly being killed was a heavy blow after all, as few in Westeros could measure up to him.
Instead, he had chosen to use guerrilla tactics, ambushing and then retreating as the Starks, Lannisters, and Tullies pursued. Dozens of small skirmishes now saw thousands of men dead quickly in confrontations that never reached the point of being called proper battles.
Scout and cavalry units would run into one another while on patrol, while ambush attacks on campsites would see Reachmen retreating while the Stark and Lannister bannermen burned their tents and killed any men too slow to get away. Yet it never saw more than a couple hundred men slain in one attack, as Tywin was careful not to overextend, while Renly kept his forces spread out in order to preserve manpower.
Meanwhile, the rest of them were waiting for the next significant move, for Renly to either commit to a large battle, or even change his course completely. The war would drag on for moons, or even years, if it continued at this frustrating pace.
Ned nodded. "I've made my own decision away from the council. It is a rash one, but one our enemy will not expect."
"Oh?" Harry would admit that Ned Stark was known for being conservative and predictable in his decision-making. If anything, it was the reason his uncle had dragged him south in the first place, to make up for this glaring flaw. "I'm all ears, uncle."
"You are to take a thousand men under your command, leave the city, and ride south." Ned stated, making Harry's brows raise as he went on. "You will have enough men to move quickly so that Renly's main force cannot catch you, as well as to kill any patrols you come across. Your course will take you deep into the Reach, and it is from there you are to cause as much trouble as feasibly possible, doing it in any way you see fit."
Harry let out an astonished laugh. "I certainly didn't see that coming, Uncle."
"I assume you understand my reasoning?"
"I believe so." He nodded. "Renly's bannermen will hardly want to fight for him if their own holdings are under threat. Especially those Lords in the Reach who despise the Tyrells, they'll head home if someone causes enough trouble for their smallfolk. Even if they don't, some of their main force will have to break off to deal with the issue."
There were a million different ways to go about such a thing. Plans within plans began to sprout within his mind, as Harry thought up the best ways to cause trouble for their enemy.
"Will you do it?" The Stark Lord remained ever serious.
"I will." Harry agreed. "I will take a thousand mounted men, and they need not be knights or heavily armored. Being quick on a horse will be more preferable for what I need."
Ned nodded his thanks, but there was one more topic he wished to discuss. "What I have learned from the Grand Maester troubles me. And that is not to mention the news you bring of the strange alliance between Renly Baratheon and House Hightower, and their usage of sorcery. I believe you have a unique chance to solve multiple problems at once if the right moves are taken…"