Title: The Prince Time Forgot

Chapter Two: Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or A Song of Ice and Fire so please don't sue me

-I am a free writer, and I write when I feel like it, I am not on a schedule, so therefore updates will be infrequent.

-If I lose interest in this story I might just stop writing all together, though in the future I may find interest in it again and then take up updating it then.

-There maybe lemons, profane language, character/death, prostitution, possibly torture or abuse (though not on Harry), lying, and probably other sins. If this bothers you then don't read. You have been warned.

-Harry will participate in polygamy/bigamy, extramarital relations, and other acts of sexuality, though no homosexuality, so if this bothers you then don't read.

XXX

Having searched Dragonstone from top to bottom Harold had come to a singular conclusion that would stick with him for the rest of his life. That conclusion being that he hated Stannis Baratheon with a deep seething passion. For it was not in the role he or his family played in the fall of his own that he hated him so. In fact Harold felt the Mad King should have been killed long before his time. It wasn't that he had thrown all of those with Valyrian blood out of Dragonstone without any means of providing for themselves while giving said jobs to those who came with him from Storm's End.

No, it was because the man had abandoned his daughter to save his own ass.

Somehow the Red Whore had seen Meraxes coming. While he didn't know all of the details the fact that the castle had not been put on alert told Harold that in all actuality she probably saw something vague. His time in Westeros had been interesting. One thing that had interested him was how often people had prophetic visions or dreams. It was much more common in this world than the one he had first lived in. For this reason he had concluded that the Red Whore must have foreseen something happening that was enough to convince Stannis to escape in the dead of night.

The only problem was he took the Red Whore and his hag of a wife but abandoned his own daughter!

Harold could not believe the man had done such a thing. After killing his way through Baratheon soldiers, dodging spots his dragon had set ablaze, and moving through the caste he had found all of their sleeping quarters abandoned. They had all ran away except for the fact that they left behind their only child.

It was disgusting and Harold had promised himself that he would make Stannis Baratheon pay for his duplicity. A little voice in the back of his head told him that no doubt the Red Priestess was behind this in some way or another. Their use of black magic, their fanatical faith, and their use of seduction was legendary in Essos. Still he squashed that voice.

In both of his lives he had been blessed with parents who willfully put their lives on the line to protect him. His internal ideology of what a parent should be was high. Some slights he was able to look past but the willful neglect or abandonment of one's own flesh and blood was not one of them. And as far as he was concerned Stannis was guilty of both.

"My Lord?"

Harold blinked and looked to his left and saw that Lord Velaryon was looking at him worriedly. When he looked around the room he realized that he had dozed off in his anger during his meeting. He controlled himself. Blushing in embarrassment would make him look like a child to these men. He was basically in hostile territory as far as he was concerned and a show of weakness was not something he could allow. As such he sat up a bit straighter and motioned for them to continue. He didn't say anything trying to keep a strong somewhat mysterious front.

They seemed to catch the message as Lord Velaryon continued to list off the names of lords or their keeps that had sworn loyalty to him. Practically every house in the Blackwater Rush had kneeled before him. They already saw him as their king. It wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't something he ever wanted. But soldiers would be wise to keep around if he wanted to continue living.

As his vassal continued to go on and on about this and that he cast his gaze to the left of himself. Sitting there was Lady Baratheon or Shireen Baratheon as was her real name. As she was the only Baratheon alive on the island he decided to keep her as an ally instead of a prisoner. Plus he owed her after she tried to help him down in the dungeons.

"Lady Baratheon." His voice cut across all of the conversations going on in the room. Now all eyes were on him and Shireen. Obviously this only made the girl more nervous as she tried to ball up in on herself if that were at all possible. "I would like to thank you."

Her eyes, a very beautiful shade of deep blue popped open and flickered towards him. The Greyscale on the right side of her face and neck crumpled slightly at this motion. It disgusted everyone who saw it thought they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut while he spoke.

"It was nothing, My Lord." He voice was just above a whisper. Most had to strain their ears just to hear what she said.

"Speak up girl!" A man who Harold did not know the name of demanded as he slammed a fist onto the table. The girl squeaked at this. Her eyes darted downwards towards the floor as her shoulders curved inwards. If her back arched forwards anymore Harold was sure she would snap. "You speak to King Harold Targaryen! Show some respect!"

An older man who seemed to be the girl's protector spoke up rather violently at that. "Watch your tongue cur!" The men all around the room started to reach for their weapons. "Had Lord Stannis still been here you would not dare to utter such words!"

"Had Lord Stannis still been here our king would have roasted him alive in dragon fire!" The man whose name was still unknown pointed at the other one. "As he should do with you." Before things got any more out of control Harold decided to put an end to it.

"Enough!" The squabble instantly died down. "There is no need for this fighting." He pointed to the man who seemed to think he needed protecting from some scraggly man. "You! What is your name?"

"Geneva Whitesand, My King." The man bowed at the waist nearly bending into a ninety degree angle. "I am a captain of Lord Sunglass' fleet."

"Well Sir Whitesand I expect better from you in the future. Do not assume attacking a child for any reason will please me am I understood. She is simply nervous. As would we all be had we been in her position." He got a shaky yes but it was good enough. "And you. What is your name?"

"I am Davos Seaworthy, My Lord." This bow was more becoming as he bent at the waist enough for respect but not so much he seemed to be groveling. "I am a landed knight of House Baratheon."

Harold examined the man more closely. He was ordinary to say the least. There wasn't anything special about him. He had brown hair that fell to his chin line that was starting to lighten. The well-trimmed bearded around his face was further along with gray more than apparent. Even his eyes were just an ordinary brown color like the hull of a ship. This was pounded upon by the ordinary leather doublet he wore under some kind of woolen green mantle.

"Well Sir Seaworthy I will applaud you for your bravery if nothing else." His eyes danced from the girl to the man. "Since it would no doubt upset Lady Baratheon if I killed you then I shall name you her Sworn Shield." This drew quite the surprise from everyone in the room. Harold stood up and pulled his sword from its sheath. "Kneel." And like that Sir Seaworthy did as he was told. He placed the top of the blade on the man's shoulder. "I, King Harold of Blackwater Bay, hereby name you Sir Seaworthy, Sworn Shield of Lady Baratheon until the day you die." He retracted his sword and slipped it back inside its sheath. "Now rise and stand guard by your lady."

"Yes, My Lord." With a series of short steps the man returned to Shireen's side. Her scared little face brightened at this. She turned to look at him and although it was only for a moment they smiled at one another.

"Does this please you my lady?" She nodded vigorously though she did not speak. "Good." He snapped his fingers. The Maester of Dragonstone came out of nowhere and handed him a jar. "I would still like to thank you for the kindness you showed me in the dungeons." Her eyes grew wider as he got closer. "You gave me something to heal my wounds so I shall return the favor."

He handed the jar over to the nine year old girl. She examined it closely trying to decipher what it was without opening it. She wouldn't find much. It was just an ordinary clay jar he had picked up while in the apothecary. Still it was kind of cute. The way her little face light up in wonder as she went over the object. The sad air she kept about her or the more recent one of fear seemingly evaporated. He liked her this way. It kind of reminded him of the way he felt around his bastard uncle Orys Baratheon.

"It is a cure for Greyscales." The little girl's eyes widened in wonder, hope evident in her small frame. "It is a red paste though I have given it no name. You simply need to apply it to the areas affected by Greyscales. Make sure it is plenty thick and leave it there to harden. It has to be left on for a week but after that you can peel the stuff off. By that time all of the Greyscale should be cured leaving behind only perfectly unblemished skin."

"My lord" began the really old Maester. "There is no cure for Greyscales. Please do not get the girl's hopes up." The man was soon pinned down by cold violet colored eyes.

"And you should not crush a child's hopes. Am I understood?" The Maester bowed his apologies a thousand times over as he apologized to him. He waved him off. "And for your information there is a cure for Greyscales. You simply do not know of it." Before the Maester could ask him anything else he turned to the group of men and women who had sworn their swords to him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement." Like always he commanded their attention completely. "First thing I would like to say is that Lady Shireen Baratheon is to be shown the utmost respect while in these walls. My uncle gave the Baratheons Storm's End and though a few bad apples may have cropped up it does not mean all of them are that way." He continued not giving any of them time to say anything. "Secondly it is about my family in the North."

"Family?"

"Yes. Though my mother was a Targaryen my father was a Stark. By our blood ties they should be obligated to help us. We need to start building alliances if we do not wish the Stag King to show up and attack us."

"Surely my lord with your dragon and our ships no such force could exist that would be a threat." The other men shouted their agreements.

"Fools!" Lord Velaryon seemed to desire his two cents be put in. "Aegon Targaryen and his sister-wives had three mighty dragons and still they were not able to conquer Westeros divided on their own. Now the Seven Kingdoms are a united body that will attempt to repel all that attack it. King Harold's dragon is a mighty beast yet it is still not even as big as Balerion the Black Dread was during The Conquest. If we wish to survive then we will need allies."

That was something that had been bugging Harold for a while now. Why did everyone believe his uncle had married his mother? No matter where he looked no mention of Rhaenys Targaryen marrying Torrhen Stark is written. It's not like they had kept it a secret. His mother had fallen in love with the stern man from the frozen North and was not afraid to tell anyone. In fact she spent just as much time in the North as she did anywhere else. She would have been the Lady of Winterfell had she not fallen in battle all the way South in Dorne.

At first he thought it was an accident. There were not Maesters in every castle in that time and the North was largely ignored. Very little coming and going into the North was done. No war took place during his uncle's conquest of Westeros either. His father had kneeled to the man and his dragons knowing it would only lead to the ruin of the North and his own house. While the Northerners could have used hit and run tactics like Dorne had, and probably would have been just as successful, it would have been a costly.

Some looked down on his father for kneeling without a single battle against Aegon I Targaryen but Harold had seen it as wise. Other fools had tried to meet dragons head on in the field and burned for their stupidity. The cold of the North prevented hotheads from succeeding.

Yet for some reason he just couldn't accept this. His uncle and his two sisters were conquering an entire continent. Everyone knew who they were and what they were doing. For everyone to forget that the youngest sister was marrying the former King in the North just seemed far to unlikely. Something must have happened to make people forget. What that something was he didn't know. He also could not understand why anyone would want him forgotten in the first place.

He shook his head. There would be time to think about such things later. "In my absence Lord Velaryon will take command of Dragonstone. Your son will take control of Driftmark. I hear he is quite the capable young man. If so then there should be no fear he will disappoint."

The Lord of Driftmark slammed his fist over his chest in salute. "Of course my lord. My son and I will be honored."

Harold nodded before addressing his men once again. "Also, representatives will be sent to the Free Cities in search of allies. I doubt we get to much but some is better than none. Lord Velaryon I am sure you will be able to find someone capable of such a job." He got a resounding yes from the man once again.

"Finally I would like for Aurane Waters to be sent to the Stepstones." That surprised quite a number of people. "Have him look and see if there are any allies there we can make use of. Also have him try and find the hideouts pirate lords make such liberal use of. If they will not be called to heel then we may need to burn them out. By taking control of the Stepstones we will gain power over the Narrow Sea. This may be just the leverage we need to force the Stag King to peace agreements."

"That may be an issue my lord." A speaker came from the back.

"And who might I be talking with?" He eyed the man closely. "You seem to know me but I do not know you."

The man stood to his feet. He was on the tall side at possibly six foot three feet tall. Not overly muscular yet not willowy. He seemed to be a swordsman who relied upon speed. His clothing was nice but worn so doubtfully he would be someone of great importance of wealth. On top of that he didn't wear a house sigil so nobility was probably out of the question. Still he was a young and somewhat handsome man with dark teak colored eyes and shaggy brown hair. A landed knight would have been his guess.

"My apologies your grace." He bowed quickly. "My name is Rolland Darklyn, the last of House Darklyn." There were murmurs from those sitting at his table. He figured there was something he was missing but he ignored it.

"Very well Lord Darklyn please continue."

"I apologize once again your grace but I am a Sir not a Lord." Harold couldn't care less. "My family lost our keep a long time ago."

"As you so rightly deserved!" That was the resounding opinion of most in the room.

"You slighted our King's house!" Again there were more emphatic agreement going around the room.

Instead of getting angry Rolland actually looked apologetic. "Yes it is true, but I hope by serving our king faithfully any slights of the past may be forgiven." 'And get you your castle back' thought Harold with a role of the eyes that most missed. He was soon brought back to the conversation. "As I was saying if we are looking for allies in the Free Cities then setting our sights on the Stepstones could become problematic."

His left eyebrow raised. "How so?"

"The Free Cities have been fighting for control of the Stepstones for hundreds of years. Most of them claim rights to them though none of the City-States put forth the effort to conquer them." That was something he hadn't known. Maybe this guy could be of use after all. "The three main ones who fight for control are Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. If we start to take them then not only will these cities deny us any help but they will no doubt declare war on us."

"Hmmm, I didn't know that."

He paused to think. In his own opinion only Tyrosh had any real chance of ruling the Steps. Everyone else was just too far or were blocked by the other. That and Tyrosh had been built as a Valyrian fortress to control the Narrow Sea. Seems only obvious that it would be in the best position to do so. That being said he didn't know how they ruled. It could be completely different from what he had learned growing up. Obviously two hundred plus years was plenty of time for things to change.

"It seems things have changed in the last two hundred and fifty years or so. But still that doesn't mean we cannot get the support we want. We just have to be more sneaky about it."

"How so your grace?"

"Once the forces from the Free Cities are on this side of the Narrow Sea then we will have majority control over them. At this point we antagonize the pirates who refused to join us. After they amass their forces we have cause to attack them. Once this happens we will use the forces we get from the Free Cities as the front line fighters. Of course this will leave them decimated but our own forces no worse for wear. With our enemies dead and our rivals weakened the Stepstones will be ripe for the taking."

"But what if the Free Cities do not send us very many or any ships to help us?" Harold could not identify the man questioning him. "What is the plan then my lord?

"If we do not receive much support then taking the Steps will take longer than I would like for it to. Though if we learn the location of their pirate dens and fortresses then Meraxes can reduce them to ash." He looked around the room making sure he had their attention. "Our goal won't be to eradicate the pirates at this point. Merely forcing them out would be for the best. This will mean that the other Free Cities will have to deal with them instead of us. By the time they are ready to retaliate we should be dug in deep enough to repel them."

It was a risky gamble. Not only was he practically all of Westeros' enemy at this point but he was antagonizing a powerful portion of Essos as well. Even if he did succeed he would have two powerful forces trying to destroy him from both sides. His only chance to succeed was to gain superior naval power to repel his enemies while making such of the raw destructive force that was Meraxes. If he could capitalize on these two things then he would succeed. Still he needed to keep his allies happy and ignorant at the moment.

He smiled and looked at the assembly of men. "And then there will be a series of islands to divide amongst those loyal to me. Surely some of you have a second son or a bastard who will not inherit anything? Perhaps they may become the lord of an island in the Steps? Maybe even start their own house."

Harold soon left the room as his men nearly went crazy. They all expected to be the ones to inherit something. That or have one of their daughters marry whoever received the island for themselves. It was a hope he left them with. There was no need to remind them that there was only fifteen islands in the Narrow Sea. Even he knew that much. Plus there was a time limit so whoever he gave the islands to would already need to be men capable of commanding others and prioritizing an entire island filled with possibly hostile people. Children would not get a thing from him. They would have no use to him.

XXX

Harold Targaryen-Stark was not an idiot. His mother and father had seen to that. Plus his natural aptitude derived from two of the most powerful bloodlines in existence left little room for errors. He knew that as he walked through Dragonstone the Stag King would be talking with whoever his advisors were. A war would breakout very soon. Thankfully he had some time. With practically the entirety of the Royal Fleet defecting from the Iron Throne to Dragonstone meant that the Stag King would have to draw in forces from elsewhere.

There was a fleet in the Reach that was very powerful as was there one in the Iron Islands and the Westerlands. While still very much behind in catching up on his history he knew that the Iron Islands would never lend Robert Baratheon their ships and he would never ask them to. With the Stag married to the Lion there was no doubt their fleets would come to the aid of their Queen. If they merged their fleet with that of the fleet in the Reach then they would possess a truly formidable force.

If that were to happen then they would possess a force roughly a third or more ships then his own. If he factored in Meraxes then those odds evened out quickly. It was a bit too close for his liking. That was also why he wanted more ships from the Free Cities. Hopefully it would be enough to scare their enemies into being cautions.

With enough time he would be able to grab hold of enough resources to fight off his enemies. He was lucky that the sea was a natural barrier protecting him from the armies of Westeros. There hasn't been a dragon born that could slay so many men by itself. Luckily ships are made from wood and dragon fire makes ash of such things rather quickly. That gave him one advantage on top of his ability to attack from the sky.

It was for this reason he had returned to Meraxes so quickly after his meeting. With enough supplies packed in a satchel on his dragon's saddle he would make a straight shot for Winterfell. It was obvious convincing the Starks there would be infinitely difficult. His only real badge of proof that he was from the past was Meraxes. At least his mother's dragon had been well documented and remembered. With her size and coloring no one could deny she was the second largest dragon used during The Conquest.

"My Lord I would ask once again for you to reconsider." Lord Velaryon seemed honest yet it was marred by his instinctual fear of the massive beast for which his master sat upon. "It is too dangerous."

If he had a nickel for every time someone said that to him. "We need allies and this could be the quickest means to gain them." He gestured in the rough direction of Winterfell. "The North cannot be conquered so it needs to be brought in willingly. The only thing that may break this friendship between Stag and Wolf may very well be blood. With the North as our ally things will get infinitely easier."

"Yes my lord but though this may be the quickest way it is also the most dangerous one." He took a step closer though paused as Meraxes growled at him. "At least take some soldiers with you. It would put us all at ease."

Harold turned to look at the silver haired man. "I know that this puts you all in a dangerous position. Should my dragon and I die then the alliance of Blackwater Bay would fall apart. And should this happen then the Stag King will no doubt punish you all severally. I am sorry for putting you all in this bind I really am. But the Starks are my family. They may be the only family I have left. You understand that don't you Monford?"

The man sighed heavily. "I do my lord. Just please be careful. Your plans are brilliant and people will follow you because of what's in your blood. On top of that you ride atop a creature made from fire and built to destroy all who defy it. Such a beast seemingly pulled from a child's fantasy and given form yet undeniable to the greatest of fools proves without a doubt your right to rule. Without you we are lost."

"Do not fear my friend I shall not die. Not even in a thousand years do I believe the Starks would discard their honor. Once salt and bread are offered to me no hard will come to my person regardless if we become allies or enemies. Guest Rights are honored throughout all of Westeros but especially in the North." He paused for a moment. "Also, tell your bastard brother Aurane Waters should he do a sufficient job then he shall be rewarded greatly. I shall legitimize him, give him a right to start his own house, and give him an island in the Steps of his choosing."

Lord Monford Velaryon gasped in shock. He kneeled to his king instantly. "This is truly a kingly reward your majesty. In my brother's place until he can do so properly let me thank you. He shall not disappoint you."

"See to it that he doesn't for whether he succeeds or fails may be what decides our own fates." That was quite ominous. "The more allies he draws from the Steps will help us but the more enemies he makes will only hurt us. We need to know where their pirate dins are, their fortresses, their numbers, and their resources. For this to work information will be key."

With that Meraxes took off. Her wings cracking like the thunderbolts of angry gods. The winds kicked up by such a mighty beast were nearly enough to send the other man off of his feet and down to a painful though rather short death. Yet for his sake they had just glided away until sufficiently far before the dragon's mighty wings of gold membrane truly went to work. It was like a work of art seeing the creature rising over the mighty fortress and into the sky. That such sights were once common was a foreign concept to him.

Still he pulled himself together quickly. His king had given him many important duties. He obviously held great hope for his family if his honoring of his bastard brother was anything to go on. If he played his cards right he may become Hand of the King. With Westeros no doubt in a system of dishevel many opportunities would arise. He may even be able to get his family control of their own kingdom. It was only right. They too had the blood of the dragon in their veins. It wasn't as strong as the Targaryen's, which is why they were not kings themselves, but surely it was enough to become a Lord Paramount.

Now that he thought of it his second son was six years old. Lady Shireen Baratheon was nine years old. During the Conquest the last Storm King Argilac the Arrogant was slain by Orys Baratheon and his only child, a daughter, was then married to him. That is how the Baratheons got Storm's End in the first place. If he took from this then it may be possible for House Velaryon to become the new Lords of Storm's End through his son and Shireen. Such thoughts were very opportunistic but the opportunity was there. He just had to make sure things happened correctly.

'Perhaps I should call Montick back from Driftwood.' He cast his gaze back towards Dragonstone. 'There are no other children who are allowed to play with Lady Shireen here on Dragonstone. Perhaps a friend could be of use to her. And if she and he became close friends suggesting marriage could work out in our favor.'

He would have to think on this. Regardless of desire his king would have to approve the marriage. Just because the daughter of a defeated house wanted to marry someone didn't mean she would. His king could just as easily strip Storm's End from the Baratheon's making them nothing more than peasants. Still people didn't forget quickly. Marrying into the blood of a past ruler made maintaining order easier than simply disposing of them. Regardless of what happened keeping her happy would be in his best interest.