Chapter Text
“Oi, mate, what’s that?”
Harry blinked, glancing up at Ron from his bed in the hospital wing. His whole back was one big numb spot, little tendrils of heat curling through his body. He was on his side, drowsy with the good potions and healing magic. The first task had gone as well as it could have, at least if he didn’t think about feeling dragon fire at his back.
He’d summoned his broom and flown off, not expecting the dragon to have broken its chain. Harry would blame that on the Potter luck, already knowing that Ron and Hermione would laugh at that.
He’d gotten the golden egg despite being half conscious, his back screaming and on fire.
“What?”
Ron was pointing at his back, his blue eyes wide. “You have a Mark. That’s four years before a Mark usually appears and it’s not… It’s not words, like wizards usually have.”
Harry shivered and reached over to grab the mirror off the bedside table. Ron helped him angle it so that he could see his back, grabbing another mirror so Harry would be able to see the reflection of the Mark.
And it was a Mark, with a capital M.
Two dragons circling each other. One deep, rather blood red dragon on the bottom. The red dragon was red all around, a deeper red than the Gryffindor red that colored every aspect of the common room. It was definitely the color of blood, making goosebumps roll up Harry’s unburned skin. The other one was a black dragon, as dark as coal, with green eyes that looked like the same color as Harry’s eyes. And Harry had heard comparisons between his eye color and the killing curse. Now he could definitely see the similarities between his eyes and the killing curse.
Both dragons were not small, taking up a big portion of his lower back, right where the dragon had burned him.
“What.”
“Guess you’re destined for someone that likes dragons?” Ron tried, shrugging faintly, frowning in thought.
“But how am I going to know who it is? You lot are going to have names and…hey, maybe it’s Charlie?”
Ron blinked at the thought, meeting Harry’s eyes slowly. “I don’t know. Charlie didn’t tell us anything about his name or whatever.”
“Alright, it’s not Charlie.”
Hermione sighed and elbowed him.
Harry let out a considering noise, glancing around Grimmauld Place a few years later. They’d just arrived after Bill and Fleur’s wedding had gone astray and. Harry had asked Bill what his older brother’s mark was, whether it was a Mark like his or a name.
Bill had said Charlie’s was a name and it wasn’t Harry.
“We’ll wait here for a few more hours,” Harry offered, lowering still more onto the dirt beneath them. He’d be dirty but it would be worth it; they’d found the main Death Eater hideout almost a year after the final battle at Hogwarts. Ron nodded, signaled to the men and women behind them.
It had been a long war, even after Harry’s ‘death’ and Voldemort’s real death at Hogwarts and he was tired. But. There were still Death Eaters to be held accountable for their actions. Still little bits of violence and Snatchers to be caught.
Hermione was back at the Ministry, rooting out Voldemort’s agents.
The night sky surrounded them and the moon provided a little light, a full sphere tonight.
Harry could see a few men and women out by the ‘abandoned’ cabin, a few select people who still wore the bone white mask of a Death Eater. “Did you guys put up anti-apparition wards?”
Ron nodded. “We did. It was the first thing we did, mate.”
Harry shrugged, held up a hand and put his head on his arms, and let out a breath. He could see the stars out above them, pondering the little balls of light. He’d just turned eighteen a week ago and he was already tired of hunting down Death Eaters and Snatchers. He wanted…to find his soulmate. Wanted a family.
It was the thumping that jerked him awake. The ground shook with significant force, the trees swaying in a wind that had just come up. Harry jerked awake after two hours of a stakeout, his blood roaring through his veins. He glanced ahead at the Snatcher cabin, meeting Ron’s wide eyes.
Screams echoed behind them from their rear.
And.
The trees swayed behind them, almost like there was something alive down behind them. Harry squinted and saw a hint of red something, hearing an almost strangled squeal. A giant dragon snaked its way through the trees behind them, its head nosing at the ground like a dog. It was almost like it was searching for something, like a bloodhound would. It was blood red and lethal looking, rumbling low in its throat. Harry stared at it, his eyes fixing on the dragon, on its long neck and. “There’s a guy riding it.”
There was a saddle on the dragon’s back, with leather straps falling around the dragon’s chest and body to hold it in place. The man himself was armored and helmeted like something out of a medieval muggle film, with chainmail and a red cloak. Silver hair flowed at the man’s neck, long and smooth. It wasn’t quite like Draco’s hair but actually silver, almost like the moon.
Harry’s eyes widened and continued to widen as it came towards them, its nostrils flaring.
“What the fuck?” Ron muttered, his eyes widening even more as they both stood up.
The dragon picked up its head to stare right at Harry and roared in a way that sounded…rather triumphant. The man on its back yelled out something in another language and the dragon ran forward on two legs. Its wings ended in clawed limbs, unlike the dragons in the wizarding world.
The dragon loped forward and charged right towards the two of them. The men and women on their Auror team dodged out of its way, yelping and shouting in surprise, their wands drawn but no spells cast.
None of them knew what to make of--
Before Harry knew it the dragon was not more than five feet away and he could feel the heat that was practically radiating from the creature. Its breath was hot and fiery and.
“Harry!”
The dragon leapt right at him, snapping its jaws out and.
“AH!”
The man on the dragon’s back shouted out something, definitely not in English, and the dragon reached for him with its hind legs. And. Claws wrapped around his shoulders and lifted. The dragon hauled him up and leapt up into the sky with him in its hold.
Harry yelped and shouted, feeling the dragon’s sharp claws dig into his skin, leaving red welts. Bright hot pain sliced through him as more than one claw nicked skin, leaving blood to spurt out.
“What the fuck! Let me down!” Harry shouted, shivering in the sudden cold wind and trying to get his balance. His heart thundered in his chest as they rose up into the air, miles above the ground and into the clouds. “Excuse me!”
The dragon rumbled low in its throat happily and Harry scowled. He reached for his wand, safely tucked into his pocket, little threads of white hot pain shooting down his arms as he moved, and cast a stinging hex at the dragon’s legs.
The dragon roared in surprise but didn’t drop him, swinging him back and forth as if trying to stop him from doing more. Harry’s scowl deepened and he flinched, feeling the dragon’s warmth radiate into him, making him not need a warming charm at all. It made goosebumps roll up his arms and legs even as his breath stuttered. He was at least a little grateful that he was used to being in the air and thrown about but he’d never been…
He was being kidnapped by…Merlin knows who.
“Let me down!” Harry shouted, his words lost by the wind as the dragon flew on, passing through clouds and misting Harry.
He was distantly aware that this dragon was the same shade of red that one of the dragons of his mark was. Same blood red hide. The knowledge made him shiver, making him wonder just who the man on top of the dragon’s back was.
A shudder of power left him anxious, his fingers curling and uncurling. It was like sliding through mud almost, going through rough and tumble magic one minute and the next…nothing. Like sliding through jello almost. The claws dug deeper into his shoulders and he shouted, poking the dragon’s claws with his wand, trying to get it to loosen up its hold on him.
The dragon flew right through a cloud, leaving him misted all over with moisture. He flinched and used a little magic to dry himself off, glancing down at the ground below him and staring. His eyes widened and his heart stopped at the very drastically different landscape below him. It was still night around them, the black sky above them making Harry shiver a little. From what he could see…the stars were different.
He blinked and blinked again, staring down at the red castle and city below him. It was still night around them, the darkness of the sky making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The sources of light below him were the torchlights and fires spread about the veritable city. And it was a city.
But it wasn’t… It clearly was not. They were not anywhere on Earth. There were no skyscrapers. No modern tech that he could see. Nothing he recognized.
He shivered even as the dragon flew on, apparently headed towards the huge…domed building that was clear over to the edge of the city. It was tall and looked entirely like a cave, a deep pit on one side of it.
His shoulders and arms had started to get numb, tingling with pain. Blood sluggishly dripped down his arms as the dragon carried him. They flew even closer, headed over the domed building and began to dip down.
The young man on top of the dragon spoke more words in that strange language and the dragon roared, sounding more like a squeal than a roar. Harry snorted in faint amusement before glancing down, his heart thundering in his chest as they began to lower down into the depths of a pit.
“Don’t you dare drop me!” Harry yelled up, hoping the rider heard him.
Harry closed his eyes to keep the dust that had been kicked up by the dragon’s actions from going into his eyes. He was still quite warm, both from the dragon and from the surrounding pit as they kept floating downward.
And finally.
With a plop, the dragon did drop him. Just. There was only a foot between the dragon and the ground and he landed on his arse with a loud thump. The dragon followed, landing on the dirt with an even louder thunk, shaking everything around them.
“Oh fuck.” Harry yelped as the fall jostled his shoulders and body and everything else.
Men dressed in grey robes came towards him, or rather towards the dragon, and began to speak in that unfamiliar language. The rider slid off, a cocky grin on his face that Harry rolled his eyes at.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Harry slowly stood up, studying the young man just as much as the man was apparently staring at him. He had been right about the man’s hair. It was a pretty silver, long enough to reach the man’s shoulders. The man’s eyes were a violet that Harry had never seen before, almost an inhuman kind of color.
The man looked about Harry’s age but he wasn’t too sure.
“I am your soulmate.”
Harry blinked, watching as the young man brought up one of his gloved hands and pulled the glove off with his teeth.
“We should have the same Mark,” the man added, giving him a pointed look.
The dragon trumpeted out, snaking its head around to stare at the both of them. Harry held up his hands and then crossed them. A curl of heat sliced through him before he squashed it.
A dragonrider. The way the man had pulled both gloves off with his teeth.
But. He had still kidnapped him and.
“What makes you think I’m your soulmate??” Harry retorted, refusing to move even as the dragon inched its head closer. He could feel the dragon’s hot breath on his arms.
“Caraxes tracked you, you idiot. Must I have an idiot for a soulmate? Ah well, you’ll still be better than the bronze bitch my grandmother wants me to wed.”
Harry blinked, letting his arms fall down to his sides and bringing one up to press down on his deep wounds from… Caraxes’ claws. “Wait.”
“Come on.”
“I don’t even know your name. You don’t even know mine!” Harry yelled, glaring at the man. “How old are you?”
“I am six and ten and I am Prince Daemon Targaryen. And you?”
Two years younger. Harry’s soulmate was two years younger than he was.
Prince?
“I’m 18. This isn’t even my world!” Harry shouted, taking a step closer to Daemon, who smirked at him. “And hold on. You want to… You can call me Harry but.”
“But what?” Daemon looked like a prince, wearing well made clothes. A black tunic that had a silver hem to it. Something that could have only been a sigil in the center of it: a red three-headed dragon. Leggings that looked like leather, almost like riding clothes and boots. He also had a sword at his hip, the sheath tied to his belt.
Daemon took the sword out, flipping it up to show him. The blade didn’t look like any metal he had ever seen but it did bear a certain similarity to the metal in Gryffindor’s sword. Rippling and strong.
“Dark Sister. You’re soulmates with the king’s grandson and with the wielder of Dark Sister, one of our blades. And I am the rider of Caraxes.”
The blood red dragon beside them rumbled low in its throat, sounding just a little…
“Hey!” Harry exclaimed, swiveling around to glare right into the dragon’s dark eyes.
Caraxes huffed, a look in those dark eyes that Harry thought was amusement.
“You idiot! Don’t you realize you traveled between worlds?” Harry finally yelled at the man, at who might have been his soulmate.
Daemon shrugged and unclasped his cloak, plucked off his tunic and turned around, taking a few steps closer to Harry. Harry sucked in a breath at the Mark on Daemon’s bare skin, at the exact same Mark as was on his back.
The two dragons circling each other. And now he was certain. This…Caraxes was the blood red dragon on the bottom. He wondered if the black dragon on top was supposed to be him, maybe it was his connection to the Hallows and being Marked for…
“You’re not Valyrian,” Daemon remarked, sounding a bit put out. “So you probably won’t be a dragon rider. I’ll still tolerate you though.”
“Oh, thank you,” Harry retorted, his heart skipping a beat at the ink on Daemon’s skin. “That’s very generous.”
Daemon snorted.
“Can I touch?” Harry asked a little quieter, his world dwindling to the man in front of him. The wrongbad heat of the claw marks on his shoulders was dampened by the true realization. He hadn’t even imagined that his soulmate would be the one to seek him out, even from another world entirely.
Daemon didn’t reply but he didn’t say no. Harry reached out to touch Daemon’s pale skin, putting his palm to the middle of the Mark, in the center of his back.
“How…” Harry trailed off, feeling Daemon shiver underneath his fingers. “It’s pretty.”
The tinge of red that appeared on Daemon’s skin, around his neck and arching up to his ears, made Harry want to trace it with his fingers. And maybe with his tongue.
“I haven’t heard of anyone calling Valyrian Marks ‘pretty’,” Daemon complained, the scowl quite clearly evident in his voice. “These are Marks of dragonfyre. Royal. Caraxes burned me when we first met.”
“As pretty as this is…” Harry trailed off, taking a step back and watching as Daemon turned back around to face him. “I need to get back to my world.”
“Your world?” Daemon echoed, throwing his tunic and cloak back on. “This is your world now.”
Harry grimaced. “No, it’s not. My friends and family are not here. My belongings are not here.”
Daemon reached over to grab his shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes and took a step back.
He had a prince for a soulmate. A prince who just happened to be a dragon rider. A very cocky prince who didn’t appear to care that he had kidnapped Harry.
“Follow me. My grandmother wants to meet you before our wedding.”
Harry blinked, his blood roaring in his ears. “What.”
“My grandmother wants to meet you.”
“No…those two words afterward,” Harry argued, looking around for a chair to sit in and finding nothing. He did see a rock though and he summoned that over, changing it into a plain seat for him to fall into.
At least he still had his Auror kit on him. He slowly reached into his pocket and drew that out, pulling out the essence of ditany. “So I have a soulmate who kidnapped me.”
Daemon stared at him like he was crazy, his eyes a little wide at the show of magic. “Why are you sitting down? And what the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know if you normally go around snatching people up with your dragon but…” Harry scowled and gestured over at Caraxes’ claws. The dragon opened its mouth, almost in a hint of a smirk. “Big fire puppy over there has sharp claws. Ow!”
He dribbled the essence over one shoulder and flinched at the bubbling noises that erupted. His skin bubbled and rippled and burned for a minute.
“Oh, fuck.”
Daemon continued to stare at him. “How did you do that?”
“Magic. I’m a wizard,” Harry gritted out, feeling quite completely done with the experience he’d had today. “You’ve taken me from my world and apparently…there’s no way to get back. Or at least none that I can see. Maybe Caraxes would be willing to take me back?”
Caraxes squealed, rumbling low in his throat grumpily. It was if the dragon was saying, don’t pull me into this argument. Harry glared right into Caraxes’ dark eyes, those reptilian eyes that were more predatory and more intelligent than the dragons back home had been.
“Your world is not…Westeros?” Daemon asked, taking a step close to him.
“No. It’s not. You’re sixteen. You already want to wed someone?”
“Grandmother wants me to wed Rhea Royce,” Daemon answered, scowling, his nose wrinkling at the thought. “It would get me access to Runestone. She is the heir to the keep. But. Fuck her.”
“And you had Caraxes sniff me out then? What if I was worse?”
“You’re Marked for me,” Daemon said, grinning at him. “You couldn’t be worse than a random woman. I don’t particularly care that you’re a man.”
“If I’m Marked for you then you’re Marked for me too,” Harry reminded him.
Daemon blinked, tilting his head like he hadn’t considered that angle. Like he had never in a million years considered that.
Harry sighed, turning to stare up at the cliff edges of the pit. He dribbled some ditany on his other shoulder and flinched, listening to his skin bubble. He waved his wand over both of his shoulders as the bubbling lessened and his blood vanished. His skin knitted back together right before his very eyes.
“I lost more blood than I would have liked so there better be food where we’re going,” Harry finally said, gesturing with his wand. He felt more than a little weak as he stood up, covering his mouth with a hand to hide a yawn. He waved his hand over the chair and it turned back into a rock. “Alright. Is your grandmother special or something…like the head of your family?”
Daemon nodded. “She’s the Queen. All she does is match make.”
“The queen…Right. Queen as in leader of Westeros or…”
“Grandfather is King of Westeros,” Daemon explained irritably, reaching out a hand to help Harry up. Daemon curled his fingers into Harry’s, hauling him up easily. “Westeros only has kings because men are better of course. Women are only meant for making babies.”
“Uh-huh.” Harry wrinkled his nose at Daemon’s words. “If Hermione were here to listen to that, she’d punch you and for good reason. Merlin, I already miss her.”
Daemon blinked and stared at him. “You have a wife?”
Harry shook his head. “No. Best friend. And if we’re going to put up with each other for now, stop it with the men are better nonsense.”
Daemon scowled. Harry arched an eyebrow at his soulmate.
“You kidnapped me,” Harry retorted, poking Daemon’s chest. “Least you can do is feed me.”
“Seven hells. If I didn’t know soulmates were this bad,” Daemon started, rolling his eyes.
Harry reached out to tug one of the silver strands of his hair, stepping out of Daemon’s reach afterward.
“You are a teenager,” Harry argued.
“You’re only two years older than me!” Daemon exclaimed back, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. He took a step towards Harry, not caring about the various Targaryen guards around them or the dragonkeepers, and lunged, catching Harry by surprise and knocking him to the ground. Harry yelped at the movement, his body going slack with it.
He straddled Harry’s hips like he was sparring with Viserys or with the sword master and glared down at him. Harry’s eyes were wide, that very vivid green staring right at him. Every inch of Harry’s attention was on him, not on anyone else, and something within Daemon purred. Heat sliced through him and made his cock twitch in his leggings. He’d never fucked a man, had only fucked a woman once before.
Harry scowled, arching an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
“I…” Daemon paused, tilting his head. “I want the throne. I want to be king. I want to rule over Westeros.”
Harry stared up at him, slipping his hands up to curl into Daemon’s hips. Daemon shivered at the touch, feeling how Harry’s thumbs dug into his skin through his tunic.
“You sure about that?” Harry finally asked, gazing up into his eyes like he could see right through him.
“Yes! Viserys is the first born and my brother and always gets more attention and love than me!”
Harry shrugged and reared up, doing something with his hands and flipped them. Daemon yelled out in surprise, feeling like he had taken a punch to the gut with how his breath left him. Now it was Harry straddling him.
“You said the queen wants to meet me,” Harry said, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I admit I am a little curious even if I don’t belong here.”
Daemon swallowed hard at the touch, at how easily Harry had touched him.
“Does every member of your family ride dragons?”
Daemon shook his head. “Not everyone. Alysanne, my grandmother, and Jaehaerys, my grandfather the king, do. Silverwing and Vermithor. My brother used to ride Balerion, the dragon of Aegon the Conqueror, but Balerion died when we were younger. My brother, Viserys, didn’t claim another one. Stupid of him.”
“Can you…” Harry trailed off, standing up and holding out a hand. Daemon took it hesitantly and let Harry help him up. “You bonded with Caraxes. Can you hear his thoughts or something like that?”
Daemon grinned. “You want to meet him?”
“I think I already met him. Or at least met the business end of his claws,” Harry answered, sighing. His stomach growled and Daemon tugged at his hand, leading him over to the waiting horse.
He heard Harry’s breath hitch as he jumped up onto his horse’s back.
“Pretty animal,” Harry offered, before he slipped up onto the horse as well, settling behind Daemon and wrapping his arms around his waist. “I don’t know how to ride so this is probably better.”
“You don’t know how to ride.”
Harry snorted behind him, leaning his forehead against Daemon’s shoulder blades easily. “No. Well…”
Daemon kicked his horse.
“I did ride a hippogriff and a thestral,” Harry commented, sighing, tightening his fingers around Daemon’s waist.
Daemon could feel Harry’s hot breath against his neck, making goosebumps roll up his skin. This man was his soulmate and was Marked for him. He was Marked for him and no one else. Heat curled in his gut at the thought.
“What the fuck are those?”
“Hippogriff’s half horse, half eagle. A thestral is a skeletal horse with wings,” Harry offered, raising his voice a little to be heard over the sound of the horse’s hooves. “What is this city called?”
“King’s Landing.”
“Your Grace.”
Alysanne turned around in her chair, feeling her bones creak, smiling a little as she saw her grandson. Daemon’s voice was faint to her, as well as her steward’s, making her gesture him forward even more.
There was a strange man beside Daemon, someone she thought she hadn’t seen before. Dark hair, sharp green eyes that made her think of Princess Argella.
“Grandmother, I found my Marked,” Daemon said, grinning in a way that seemed familiar to her. She tried to remember when she had last seen such a grin. “You said I did not have to wed the bronze bitch if I found them.”
“I did?”
“You did, Grandmother,” Daemon replied, turning to gesture to the man next to him. “He shares my Mark. Caraxes found him.”
The man’s nose wrinkled, his eyes a little wide, as he looked around at the Red Keep, clearing his throat. They were in Maegor’s Holdfast, in the royal chambers of the King and Queen. Jaehaerys was holding his small council at the moment, something Alysanne dearly wished she could still attend but for her broken hip. Her hearing was declining as well and her memory was…not at its best. She could hardly remember the names of the various lords and ladies that traveled to court now. “He kidnapped me, is what he’s leaving out. Your Grace. You can call me Harry.”
Alysanne arched an eyebrow. “Grandson, what does he mean by that?”
“He was not in Westeros,” Daemon replied, shrugging in answer. “Harry was somewhere else. I don’t care where he was. He’s here now.”
“You are both men,” Alysanne said, looking between them both. “The last Marking between two men was my father and his half brother as you well know.”
Daemon nodded impatiently. “Harry is not related to us but Caraxes seemed to like him. And neither of us is like Maegor.”
“I don’t know who Maegor is but how the hell do you know that?” Harry retorted, glaring at Daemon. “We’ve only known each other for an hour?”
“You will not be able to take the throne. The man…” Alysanne paused, brushing a strand of long grey hair behind her ear. “The man who sits the throne needs heirs. No matter how much I argue with my husband, it will always be a man.”
“Should be man or woman.”
Alysanne blinked at the man’s words, hearing the quiet gossip of the women behind her grind to a halt. Gael stepped up to her side and slipped her thin hand into her mother’s, making Alysanne happy.
“You believe it should be equal too?”
The man who shared Daemon’s Mark…Harry…looked at her thoughtfully before nodding. “The world I come from does not have kings and queens mostly but the leaders of the countries are either men or women. My home country at the moment has a queen but she doesn’t really--”
“He’s a maegi,” Daemon interrupted, speaking loudly, his blood thundering in his ears. “Not like the Asshai but he transformed a rock into a chair. What the fuck do you mean I won’t be able to take the throne?”
“He may be Marked for you, may be your equal in all the ways that matter but,” Alysanne said. “You need children if you sit the throne. I will have you wed however, to this man instead.”
“I still need to think about this!” Harry exclaimed, elbowing Daemon’s side. “This is not my world! I’m only 18! I don’t even know you!”
Alysanne grinned faintly, watching as Daemon turned to Harry and scowled. Oh, she remembered how she and Jaehaerys had been when they were younger. Now time and age and quarrels had drawn them apart. If only…
“If only Kreacher could--”
A small crack echoed in the hall around them and a tiny creature appeared right next to Harry. Harry’s eyes widened and widened before he smiled widely, his whole face lighting up. It was small and brown, with tiny fingers and… It almost looked like the famed children of the forest in those books that Alysanne had seen in Winterfell’s library all those years ago. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, remembering flying Silverwing up towards the Wall. She smiled wistfully, feeling Silverwing hum along their bond. She still went to visit her dragon but she could not… She could not fly and it broke her heart. She wanted to be young again, with an adventurous heart and all her children alive with her.
“Kreacher!”
“Master is driving his friends crazy. Where have--”
The tiny creature stopped, going almost shock still. “Master is in Westeros.”
“Kreacher, you know where we are?”
“Yes. The first house elves came from the forests of Westeros,” the creature replied, his voice going low. “The men here made us exiles.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed and he glanced up at Daemon and Alysanne before turning back to the tiny creature. “If you can travel here and back, can you bring Ron and Hermione?”
“The mu--” Kreacher visibly bit off his words and nodded. “Kreacher will not stay long though. Kreacher will bring Master’s belongings and vaults, if he is staying.”
Harry stared down at Kreacher, his eyes going distant, before he turned to look at Daemon.
“Daemon, will you still wed this man then?” Alysanne questioned, her attention moving to her grandson and to the utterly lost expression on his face.
“I want…” Daemon trailed off.
Harry turned to look at him, spared a glance towards Alysanne. “Your Grace, may I have a moment alone with him?”
“Of course. Welcome to the family.”
Harry’s mouth tightened and he frowned. “Thanks? I guess?”
“Daemon…” Harry paused, tugging him over to the small nook in the small hall. He looked over to where the queen was sitting on her soft chair. Daemon let him manhandle him, either too surprised to dig his heels in or…
“What? What is that creature? Where is it from?” Daemon was still staring at Kreacher, his eyes wide, his right hand on the hilt of Dark Sister.
“He is an elf,” Harry explained. “He’s from my world. He came at his name which means… I could go back and forth at will. It means…”
“You’ll stay?”
Harry nodded slowly, eying the way the women next to the queen were staring at both Harry and Daemon. “I’ll stay. I like this world. No one knows who I am or what I can do. No one will stare at me like they do at home. If you’re really my soulmate…the man who’s marked for me…”
Daemon’s nose wrinkled. “The Valyrian gods Marked us this way. And you’re already better than Rhea Royce.”
“I want a home,” Harry said after a minute of quiet, glancing over to the queen. “Kreacher, I’m staying. Would you mind bringing my belongings and vaults?”
“Kreacher will bring them and your friends. And Kreacher would stay if Harry allows it.”
“Of course I do. You don’t have to ask for permission,” Harry retorted.
Kreacher glanced up at the ceiling of the hall like he was asking for patience before disappearing.
“If this is a court,” Harry started, looking over at Queen Alysanne. “Medieval court at that… Can we live somewhere else?”
Daemon scowled at him, gesturing around the hall. “I’m staying here.”
“I don’t want to live…” Harry trailed off, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you want a home of your own? Something that you built or bought on your own??”
Daemon tilted his head, dropping his hand down to the hilt of Dark Sister, his eyes darkening at the thought. “That’s what eventually becoming king would do.”
Harry shrugged. “Where are you in the line?”
“Third. If Aemon had not died, I’d still be fourth.” Daemon grinned wider, this time a little feral, more eager than Harry would have thought if a family member had died. “And no one’s going to choose cousin Rhaenys for the throne on account of her sex.”
“And Rhaenys is…”
“Daughter of Prince Aemon Targaryen and Jocelyn Baratheon. Aemon was heir to the throne, the second son of King Jaehaerys. My nuncle.”
“Your father being--”
“Prince Baelon. He is heir to the throne now,” Daemon explained impatiently. “Hand of the king as well. He rides Vhagar, the dragon of Visenya, wife of Aegon the Conqueror. Aemon…was the first rider of Caraxes.”
Harry blinked, taking a breath. It was a lot of names to remember, names of people and dragons and… This was definitely a new world and definitely a medieval world, at that. A medieval world…with dragons. “I’ll have to look at the family tree later. Does Rhaenys have a dragon?”
“Meleys.”
“If we’re soulmates…” Harry trailed off, sighing and running fingers through his hair. He saw Daemon stare at him out of the corner of his eyes, something that looked a lot like want blinking in and out of those purple eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but. Sure. I reserve the right to divorce you though.”