Chapter Text
I have no idea what I'm doing. I literally thought of this yesterday. I apologise for nothing.
~*~
~*~
Harry could remember a time when this would have been unthinkable. When life was prised tooth and claw from the very grasp of winter itself.
Though he could also remember when the Seven Kingdom's were seven kingdoms, and when Brandon the Builder was only contemplating a wall to save the people from the horrors of the northern wasteland.
Harry snorted and nosed at the last vestiges of defence – a line of rocky mounds that would not trouble Rickon, let alone anything else – and wondered how it had come to this. At least it allowed him enough cover to follow his charges without being seen. Complacent the summer may have made the people, but a wolf taller than a man stood high tended to bring out the panic wherever he went.
Travelling as a man on horseback would allow him a certain amount of anonymity, but he was faster and had a greater range of his senses in his animagus form.
In this instance, the benefits vastly outweighed the drawbacks.
The wind shifted, crisp and fresh it was a constant reminder that although the sky was clear, snow was never far from falling. The party's horses whickered uneasily as they stood in the square, catching his scent and dragging Harry's attention back to the present.
Ned's head snapped up at the sound, his gaze sliding along the line of trees. At this distance Harry could pick out the colour of his eyes and yet knew with certainty that Ned would not be able to spot him. Indeed, Ned's gaze passed over Harry's position like he was no more than shadows on snow.
The breeze lifted again, this time strong enough to tug at the strands of Harry's fur. He could see the horses begin to panic – ears flicking back and the whites of their eyes starting to show – desperately trying to pinpoint the predator that lurked just out of their sight.
This time Ned frowned and fully turned his attention away from the man he was questioning.
Foolish. Harry cursed himself as he carefully padded his way through the forest, heading downwind of the volatile animals. It would not do to cause them to bolt, especially as young Bran was among them.
Downwind he was safer, the horses settling under the calming hands of their riders. He settled as Ned returned to the king's justice, tensing only slightly as Ned drew his sword from its sheath. He didn't look away as Ned brought the blade down onto the neck of the condemned man, nor did he flinch. Once he would have fought against such a practise, but he was old and tired. The millennia had worn down his morals, and the centuries of war had hardened him.
What was his judgement compared to the judgement of another's? If there was one thing he had learnt it was that he was only a man and a man can only do what he can to keep his loved ones safe.
After his affair with Brandon and their bond forged over ice and fire during the war against the Others, that included the man's descendants. In return, the Starks provided him with a place to call home whenever he felt the need to subject himself to humanity once again. It was a winning position for both sides.
There was a reason the Starks used his animagus form as their banner.
The smell of fresh blood caught him unawares and he barely restrained the growl that vibrated in his chest. His sense of smell sharpened as his hunger spiked at the promise of fresh meat. He shook his head, dragging his thoughts away from the wolf instinct to claim and tear, to feast and sate.
He had been too long in his animal form. Three straight years of wandering the wilderness north of the wall, watching the Night Watch as they patrolled the last remaining defence.
The Others were stirring. And with Ned safely ensconced in his castle, Harry had done the only thing he could – and if truth be told, he wanted – and had followed Benjen back north after Rickon's naming day celebrations.
The man hadn't even known he was there.
Harry slunk back into the darker shadows of the forest as Theon's laughter echoed around the square. He felt inordinately proud of young Bran. Not yet eight and he hadn't faltered at the sight before him.
Though I think Jon had something to do with that. He admitted to himself.
Whatever Lady Catelyn may think of Ned's bastard child, Jon was a Stark true enough and fell under Harry's protection.
Woe betide any who wish ill on the wolves of the north.
~*~
He doubted whether any of the younger ones would recognise him.
Mind, he had barely stayed since Lyanna had passed. Dear, sweet, headstrong Lyanna. If there was any chance Ginny's soul had followed he would have thought her reincarnated. But in all the years he'd survived he'd never met her again – only those few souls that refused to leave him alone.
Nonetheless he was looking forward to walk through the gates of Winterfell. It would be nice to stroll through the corridors once again, to sit and be welcomed back at the dining hall. Harry doubted whether much had changed, despite being under the control of a Tully woman.
If only there was reason for celebration. Enough to draw all the Stark men home.
The sentiment was foolish, perhaps, but Harry still wished for it anyway.
There was a shout from up ahead. Harry tensed and pricked his ears forward, straining to catch anything of the conversations and excited teasing. Then he caught it, the scent of death and old blood. He recoiled, scrubbing his nose against his foreleg to try and rid himself of the stench.
Whatever had died had done so in pain and in fear, and while this would normally be enough to get his blood pumping, there was something about it that struck to close to home. Something that called out to him.
The voices rose in volume and Harry didn't even realise that he'd taken two steps out of the treeline until Ned's eyes locked onto his own. Harry didn't have long to worry about being spotted, as Ned turned back to his sons and the dire wolf pups they were holding.
Oh. Harry thought. Oh, dear. Well that's going to complicate things a little.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Harry padded his way back into the shadows of the forest. They were almost home, enough that he felt it acceptable to leave them to journey ahead. It would not do to arrive at the same time as Ned and his sons, especially with no means of travel. He wouldn't be able to come up with a satisfactory reason as to why none of the patrols had spotted him. Besides, he needed to think.
The party eventually picked up where they left off, Ned chiding his sons along until they were heading for home once again. Harry watched them go.
The wolves had returned to Winterfell and the summer snows had not even begun to melt.
Winter is coming.