The Trial
Chapter 21
The Trial
The day had started so pleasantly for Lord Eddard. He had woken, broken his fast with some brown bread and trout and had accepted an invitation from Robert to go hunting for aurochs. Their outing had borne decent results as they had each managed to down a bull of their own and would be feasting on rich beef for the duration of their journey. They were just returning to the inn when Prince Joffrey dashed into the yard and yelled about a monster in the woods and being attacked by none other than the Stark's Ward--by Harry of all people!
Ned balked, feeling a rock drop in his stomach as Joffrey rambled endlessly to his father and mother and the kingsgard, yelling over and over again that he wanted the ward to be punished. Ned couldn't believe such words, but then a new cry broke through the yard.
“Help! Help!” Ned turned the moment he heard the familiar shriek. He watched as Sansa stumbled into camp, looking frantic. “I need a maester!”
“Sansa?!” Ned called for her attention, startled by her panic and ran up to her the moment he knew someone needed a healer. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? The prince just came through here saying he was attacked by Harry.”
“No, it’s Harry who’s hurt! He’s been attacked by a monster!” She told him, pointing in the direction she came.
“Show me. Timmen get a maester!” He said over his shoulder as he and a few other men followed his daughter.
When they came to a clearing, they saw Harry on his feet with his wounded back to them. Even at the distance Ned was at, he could see it was bleeding profusely. The sheer amount that was coming from him had his whole back and grey tunic soaked through with dark red, making it a complete mess. He was facing some strange and wild beast that looked like a giant eagle with four legs. Ned assumed that was the monster in question yet shockingly, the boy was apparently trying to sooth it. At the sound of the approaching people, he turned and held a hand up, issuing them to stop.
In response, the beast bayed and flapped one of its massive grey wings threateningly until the people had halted.
“My lord, please, you mustn’t approach him,” Harry implored. “Not without the proper etiquette.”
Ned was nothing but wary of such a beast. He reached out for Arya who stood off to the side, hesitant to get any closer to the strange hybrid as he put a hand on her shoulder and led her farther away from the thing. “Harry, Arya, get away from that thing.”
“No!” Harry yelled back, startling the lord for he was fairly certain he had never known the boy to ever raise his voice very loud. “I know this creature well and I am not about to let anyone lay a finger on him.”
“Harry, it has injured you. It is clearly wild.”
“It did what it does. Its nature is to react to what it perceives as a threat but that’s not going to change my nature, which is to defend it.”
“Even from here I can tell you are very injured,” Ned tried to persuade. “You require a healer this moment.”
“I will not see one until I am sure no harm is to come to this creature in any way by either your men or the king’s.” It looked as though he would not be moved on this matter and Ned had no choice but to accept it.
“Then I will have Jory take it to the stables to have it guarded while you are seen to.”
Harry’s eyes swerved to the man as he approached and again Harry held out his hand. “Wait please, before you do, I need to tell you how you are to approach it.” Jory paused and the young man continued. “This is a hippogriff. His name is Buckbeak and creatures like him are very proud. Before you come any closer you need to show him the proper respect.”
“Proper respect?” What on earth did that mean?
“You have to bow to him," Harry explained. "Only if he bows back are you allowed to come closer.”
Jory looked startled by the strange instruction yet after a quick glance to his lord, who was just as confused but nodded all the same, did he decide to step forward. Harry stepped away, giving the creature a chance to examine the newcomer and decide his own opinion of the Northern man. Jory gave a bow, looking the perfect image of a nobleman. Buckbeak chitted in anticipation and, for a moment, no one was sure if the creature would bow back, but the hybrid eventually responded with a graceful bow of its own.
Harry looked satisfied by this development, but it left the question for how they were now supposed to lead him back to the stables. As accepting as this beast or “Buckbeak” now seemed to be, it didn’t mean he was more obedient, and he resisted all attempts to get him to move. Eventually, Arya had an idea and ran up to the horses that Sansa and Joffrey had been riding and unfastened the bitless bridle from Sansa’s mare. She took it and asked for Sansa’s shawl. Her sister was reluctant to give it up, but with her father’s insistence, Sansa relented. Bringing the two things closer, Arya suggested they blindfold the hippogriff the way the stable hands sometimes did for panicked horses. It was the best idea they had, so Harry gently fastened the long cloth over the bird’s eyes while fitting the bridle to him at the same time. The boy needed to give him repeated reassurances and patted his neck to keep him calm, but once that was done, Buckbeak indeed seemed much more agreeable.
“Good thinking, Arya,” Harry commended to the little lady. She beamed in response, proud of her quick wit.
Just then, several heavy footsteps broke through the trees and the king’s men had appeared. Ned glanced at his ward, who traded worried looks from the men to the beast. It seemed Ned was now realizing just how useful the blindfold would actually be in keeping Buckbeak from lunging at every approaching person.
“Lord Stark!” The head knight barked. “By order of King Robert, the beast before you attacked our prince and is therefore to be slain!”
“Hold!” Lord Eddard exclaimed with a hand up towards the guards. “I insist this matter be discussed with Robert and my ward be looked after for his injuries before anything else happens. The beast is cooperating now, and until all accounts have been heard, nothing is to be done to it. The Hand of the King commands it.”
The guards looked between each other, unsure what they ought to do. Finally, Barristan Selmy, who was leading the soldiers put his sword away.
“We will escort them back to camp and have the king settle this matter.”
Looking relieved, Harry followed Ned and the guards all while leading Buckbeak by the bridle until they reached camp. Every single person stopped dead with what they were doing the very moment they saw the massive creature who was being led blindfolded by the injured ward. Murmurs and exclamations of surprise rippled through the people and it didn’t stop even after Harry had led him to the stables and into a private pen.
With that done, Eddard insisted that Harry go see a healer now while Jory himself stood guard for the hippogriff.
“Ned!” The lord closed his eyes and internally groaned as he heard the approach of the king. “What is going on? There’s a beast or something of the like?”
“It’s, difficult to explain,” Ned began, because even he didn’t understand the full story, only that his ward had found some kind of strange, massive eagle creature in the woods with his daughters. The whole ordeal had happened so quickly that he was having trouble accepting it.
Robert went on. “I just saw Joffrey who accused your ward of attacking him along with some monster. He said that the boy commanded it to lunge at him.”
Ned frowned, doing his best to quell his rising anger for the blatant lie. “I don’t believe that is the full account. Harry is sporting injuries from the creature himself and is being looked after at this time.”
“Has he said anything about what happened?”
“Not a lot. If you’ll wait until his wounds have been looked after, I’m sure he’ll be able to explain things from his point of view and we might be able to get to the bottom of this.”
Robert paused, looking impatient, yet in the end he relented just the same. “Very well. Send him to me the moment he is able to move.”
Ned agreed and left to see if a healer had reached his ward. He found him laying over a tall table with his shirt off as a maester prepared to stitch up the four long slashes across his back. A bottle of rum was on the table with the rest of his instruments and Ned assumed the maester had instructed Harry to down a cup to better numb the intense pain of both his wounds and then the anguish that would follow his needle. Arya and the butcher’s boy, Mycah, was at his side, staring at the sight of it with a gruesome fascination.
“Harry, you should see your back. It’s a mess!”
“Arya Stark, this is no place for either of you to be right now,” Ned lectured his daughter and the common boy as he entered the tent.
Mycah looked terrified at the sight of the lord and prepared to leave the moment he had said so, but Arya held him back while she explained their presence. “We just want to make sure Harry will be alright.”
The maester’s needle found Harry’s flesh and the boy flinched with pain.
“If it’s alright, my lord,” Harry struggled out, “I’d be fine if they stayed.” His brow was drenched with sweat and he was clinging to the edges of the wood with a white-knuckle grip. “I… could use someone to distract me for a moment from the… sewing.”
The maester’s needle pulled back as he completed the first stitch, and Arya looked eager to be of some help to her foster brother. “What do you want us to do?”
“Talk about something. Talk about anything.”
Arya looked up at the canopy in thought before Mycah quickly found a topic for them to discuss. “Oh… um… Buckbeak is being looked after right now, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Oh right,” Arya assured him, eagerly jumping on the conversation. “Jory is guarding him with a few others. He’s being treated well. I think he likes Jory.”
“Good. I’m really glad.”
“How do you know him, Harry?” Ned asked, curious to learn more about this new mystery.
“I… it’s a long story,” Harry told them with clenched teeth. “One that’s better told when I’m not hunched over being sewn back together like a torn leather jacket.”
“And that’s not a frightening image in the least,” Arya remarked sarcastically. Mycah cringed, sucking in a breath through his gritted teeth with the visual.
Harry managed a chuckle which turned into another hiss before deciding it was better for the pain to keep talking. “Heh… well, I guess the abridged version is I know him because I used to have a teacher who taught me about animals before coming here. Buckbeak was one of them, he’s a very rare creature.”
“Where did he come from?” Ned asked. To that, his daughter provided the answer.
“Harry found him in the woods." She informed him, looking excited. "He was all messy and hurt before Harry, Mycah, and I all cleaned him up and dressed the wounds that he had.”
To that, Mycah nodded beside her.
“I—I think he may have been following us for a while, my lord,” Harry added. “He was all covered in wounds and mud, a lot like the kind from the swamp along the Neck. He may have seen our caravan and spotted me. He could have recognized me from back when I was a student, but chose not to get any closer to our large group.”
Ned paused in thought towards that. “Am I to assume he is from your homeland?”
“Yes,” Harry bit out while the maester finished with the first cut down his back. He dabbed at the bleeding wound with fresh cotton that had been dipped in a thick opaque paste.
Ned brought his ward's attention back to him, hoping to steer his mind in a direction that wasn’t focused too much on the pain of the next several long minutes.
“Harry, I hope you know that this won’t be the end of the unpleasantness. There’s to be a trial.”
“T-trial?” Harry repeated, only partly listening to Ned as he braced himself against the maester’s needle yet again.
Ned nodded, speaking slowly so the boy could process his words better. “Yes. Despite your good intentions you still attacked the prince.”
“That isn’t true!” Arya said instantly. “Joffrey was being stupid! He wanted to hurt Buckbeak, and right after the poor thing just went through something awful. Joffrey marched up to him ready to hack his head off with his sword for no good reason other than that he wanted to. Sansa and Mycah were both there, too. They’ll tell you!”
“Just the same,” Ned explained, “he’s saying one thing and you’re saying another. If we can’t prove your innocence or Buckbeak’s, then you both are to be severely punished.”
He wasn’t sure if Harry really understood with the affliction taking up most of his attention, but Arya was appalled enough in his place by the news. “Punished?! Father, Harry is already being punished! Joffrey got away without a single scratch on him. He should be on his knees thanking Harry for putting his own hide in harm’s way while shielding Joffrey’s.”
“And we will certainly use that in the defense for Harry, but take heed that you need to be prepared. As soon as you are able to walk, you are expected to stand in front of the king and submit your case.”
Harry nodded. “I’ll meet with him the moment I’m bandaged up.”
“I must insist you wait, my lord.” The words came from the maester, who up until then had remained focused solely on his work. “You need proper rest. I can’t in good conscience advise you to move too much and risk opening your wounds back up.”
“I’ll be careful,” Harry promised with a wince. “I can come back later for a better checkup. Just patch me up enough to see the king.”
“At this rate you’re definitely going to get a fever,” the maester predicted.
To that, Harry made a remark in his native language, one that sounded like some kind of contradiction.
As the maester continued to work, Ned asked for more detailed descriptions of the incident from the children, and together they prepared Harry’s defense. Ned warned him about how he was to address the king and royal family and stressed that whatever happened he was not to accept or place blame on anyone. Doing either would put a target on his back for future persecution. Proving his innocence today was the only goal. If he needed to, it was even advised that he sacrifice the hippogriff to save himself. To that, Harry adamantly refused, promising he would get them all out of this one way or another. Ned wanted to argue the point more, but decided not to. Thanks to his pacifistic nature, the boy could be so foolishly stubborn sometimes.
In spite of the maester’s original disapproval for allowing Harry to move so soon, he still worked diligently to get the lad back to his feet to meet with the king. In time, Harry was bandaged and Ned offered him a clean shirt and tunic. He struggled with putting it on, but muscled through the pain with minimal wincing.
“Are you sure you’re alright to stand?”
“I’ll make it alright,” Harry resolved, getting to his feet, and taking a deep breath to force himself through the pain. Ned had to admit, where the lad lacked in muscle, he certainly made up for it in willpower.
For as critical as this trial would be, Ned wondered if he may have been more worried than his ward was. The lord had done his best to coach him on the proper respect for this unpleasantness, yet he knew that the final argument would be left almost entirely to Harry. Whatever happened was out of Ned’s hands. He only hoped that Harry had the presence of mind to keep his emotions in check and focus solely on the facts. While Ned might have had some leeway with his friendship to Robert, he couldn’t guarantee how beneficial it would be to a boy who was only his ward.
He led Harry, Arya, and even Mycah to a grand tent where King Robert often took his constituents while they were on the road. The king himself was seated in a grand center chair, much like a throne, as he waited for the Starks to arrive and present their cases to him. Harry stood before him with a passive expression. If he was nervous at all, Ned couldn’t tell.
“Are you sure you’re fit to speak, lad?” Robert asked, sharing a moment of rare concern as he looked towards Harry. “I understand you’ve been severely mauled.”
“It’s not that severe, your grace. At least, I’m sure it looks a lot worse than it feels, anyways,” Harry responded politely, maintaining his cool disposition. Ned could agree that it was best to not reveal such weakness in front of so many eyes. From where he had been standing while his ward was getting dressed, the wound looked bad enough, but perhaps the maester’s brews were working better than Ned first assumed. Harry went on without issue. “I can talk about the events, at the least.”
Joffrey had already said his piece but his mother said it again just as her son had told her. “We know about the events,” she sneered. “There was a great beast that my boy attempted to defend you all against and you foolishly stopped him. Your wounds are your own fault. My boy could have handled the creature if you had not interfered.”
“That isn’t what happened at all!” Arya yelled in outrage with Mycah nodding beside her. Ned silenced her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Ask Sansa,” Joffrey demanded. “She’ll tell you.”
All heads in the room turned in the direction of the girl, who was cowering a bit besides Septa Mordane.
“Sansa,” Joffrey smiled towards her, reaching out a hand and urging her to come stand beside him. “Come here and tell my father what happened.”
Ned's daughter was trembling and looking a little scared to be put on the spot like that, but she managed to find her voice just the same.
“I-I well… i-it all happened so quickly, your grace. We came upon all three of them in the glade with a strange frightening beast. I was afraid. It looked so big and hulking that I thought it would attack someone. Joffrey said he would protect me and he got down from his mount to face the creature. But it… it was so big…” With that she trailed off, refusing to meet the eye of either the prince or her family after that testimony.
“See? You heard her!” Joffrey exclaimed. “She said so, herself. It’s a complete monster. I was doing what was right.”
Ned looked towards Harry, hoping beyond hope he would keep his anger at bay with the offensive language the prince had used. To his relief, his ward maintained his composure as he recounted his own involvement with the events.
“Perhaps the prince remembers it like that,” Harry offered, “but that isn’t how it occurred from my point of view.”
“And what was it like from your point of view?” Robert asked.
Harry took a breath and calmly began his explanation. “Surprisingly, I know the creature that Joffrey thinks he was defending us against. It’s a hippogriff called Buckbeak. I was introduced to him some years ago by an old teacher of mine. His kind are known to be domesticated in my homeland, but you have to know how they are meant to be approached before you can go near one. Buckbeak was actually how my friend Hermione and I found ourselves in the North to begin with, but there were some… obstacles that forced us all apart and we were stranded from him. I thought Buckbeak would return home or at the worst he had died in the events that tore us from each other, but it turns out he’s been fending for himself alone in the wilderness this whole time, and has had a difficult time of it. I was reunited with him earlier today and discovered him in a wounded and vulnerable state. It took a moment for him to even recognize me once I knew it was him. I imagine his trust in people has been challenged during our separation, but with Arya and Mycah’s help, we were able to tend to his injuries, filth, and malnourishment. He’s better now, but he’s still frightened and possibly deeply affected by whatever abuse he’s been through. I’m not sure what the prince believed he would accomplish, but Buckbeak is not an animal that can be so easily slain. I acted in the interest of protecting someone who didn’t understand what he was up against. When Buckbeak attacked, it was only out of self-defense.”
After his tale, Robert scrutinized Harry before his eyes swerved over to Arya and Mycah.
“Is that how it happened?”
They both nodded while Arya contributed to Harry’s statement. “Yes, your grace. He was badly hurt, but after we helped, Buckbeak let both me and Mycah near him, once we had made it clear we meant him no harm.”
Harry spoke again and looked over at Joffrey, who glared at them all. “I’m sure the sight of such a creature would surprise any stranger passing through and Prince Joffrey was only acting in the interest of protecting Sansa and her family, which is a noble action for any lady’s betrothed to do.”
There were shared nods of agreement around the heads of the court and Ned honestly wanted to clap his ward on the back for his tact with how he wisely avoided laying blame on any one person or factor, just as they had prepared for. He even went so far as to praise Joffrey for his foolishness, dressing it up to look like bravery.
“You still put your hands on my son and tackled him to the dirt like some brutish wrestler,” Cersei argued, seemingly refusing to fall for his words. “And then you had the nerve to call him a fool and give him a lecture.”
“It was not my intention to be offensive, your grace,” Harry responded. “The heat of the moment and the pain of being clawed by talons that huge would make anyone lose their tempers. If he escaped from a magical beast with nothing more than a skinned knee and a wounded ego, I think it’s a pretty cheap price to pay.”
“The lad makes a good point,” Robert agreed giving his wife a sideways glance.
“Well, what is to be done with this beast?” His queen demanded, turning their attentions to a different matter. “This—hippogriff? What are we to do if it should attack someone else?”
Harry was quick to offer his own services for that question. “I would be more than willing to see to its care, your grace. It has been through quite the trial, but when he is in full health, Buckbeak is quite the handsome creature. A fine addition for any menagerie.”
Cersei sneered at the thought. “Menagerie. Do you think we keep a zoo?”
“Zoo or not, the creature is rare and proud,” Harry pointed out. “A fitting ride for any king. As I’ve said before, its kind have been known to be domesticated. The Targaryens were able to conquer the known world because they had dominion over the air with their dragons. Buckbeak isn’t a dragon, but he does have dominion over the air because he can fly. Are you willing to waste potential like that just for a trophy?”
Robert seemed to consider thoughtfully, and Ned could almost picture what the king was imagining; him riding atop a strong hippogriff like Buckbeak, flying above all armies and brandishing his war hammer like he did in his prime.
“Hmm… it would be a waste, wouldn’t it?”
Queen Cersei and Prince Joffrey both looked outraged. “Husband, you cannot seriously be considering--”
“I am considering it, woman!” Robert barked, looking furiously at first his wife and then his son. “The boy should have known better! You don’t just waltz up to a wild animal and think it’ll bow to your whims, after all! Didn’t your fool of a great grandfather teach you that?”
Joffrey shrank away, his pale face lighting up with a deep embarrassed blush.
“You are lucky that the boy is swift of feet and saved your hide with his own. You are unharmed and will drop the matter.” Then Robert turned to Harry, stabbing a finger his way. “This creature will live, but you will tend to it personally. And if it puts scars on anyone else, it will be you who pays for it.”
A deep breath of relief left Harry at the king’s announcement and the lad nodded, unable to hide his smile. “Yes! Yes, of course. I’ll take extra precautions to be sure no more harm is done by him.”
“You had better. It’ll ride with the procession towards the back where it will hopefully stay out of trouble, and you will mind its temper. Understand?”
“Indeed, your grace. Thank you very much.”
“In the meantime—Renly!” At once, the king’s brother appeared at his side and Robert gave him several instructions. “Ride ahead with some guards to King’s Landing and have a special paddock prepared for the creature in the Red Keep. The Targaryens of old had enclosures similar for their dragons when they still existed. Use one of those spaces for the creature and be sure it is staffed with guards around the perimeters and accommodations for its keeper once we arrive.”
“It will be done,” the man promised with a nod of his head.
“Go with the boy and discuss whatever else it needs. Have all of it ready for us when we reach the capital.”
Harry bowed to the king in gratitude and followed Renly outside to discuss the needs of the beast more thoroughly. Ned felt all the tension leave him at their exit and in its place came an immense relief that Harry had managed himself so eloquently before the royal audience, thus ensuring that the final verdict ended in their favor. At his side, Arya beamed and babbled with Mycah about their good fortune and how excited she was for Buckbeak to get better soon so that they could go flying on him.
Ned wasn’t sure he was about to agree to that just yet, but his attention was drawn away when he glanced towards the queen and prince. The hateful expressions they were throwing in their direction left him nervous. Even though the king had made his final decision about the matter, Ned had a terrible feeling that it was far from over, where those two were concerned.
It was a strange feeling to be speaking with the king's brother and not being properly introduced. Renly was a handsome man who was only a few years older than Harry himself. He was lean with jet black hair that was kept clean, combed and hung to his shoulders with a curl in it that indicated he may have often held it back by a tie. His laughing blue-green eyes were the color of water that reflected whatever he wore, and his smile was easy and welcoming as he addressed Harry on the care of the new fascinating beast that graced their party.
Harry cleared his throat and went into detail of everything he could remember learning about hippogriffs from Hagrid and what they required to live comfortably. When he felt like he had recounted everything, Renly nodded and turned, calling to his side several guards to prepare their journey to the capitol.
Once Harry found himself outside, he made his way quickly to the stables and spotted Jory guarding the furthest stall with several other Stark men. Though it was still several hours before sundown, Harry was already exhausted. So much had happened. In just a day, he had found an old friend, tended to his wounds, been seriously injured, had his own wounds tended to, and stood trial for the assault of a prince. He felt worn out and his back hurt immensely. Every move was a chore and reminded him that he was being held together with string. Though he had maintained his composure surprisingly well in front of the royal court, he wanted nothing more than to collapse in a bed and sleep and sleep for several days. But even he knew there would be no rest for him just yet. He still needed to check up on his hippogriff. While he knew Buckbeak was perfectly safe in the care of Eddard’s men, Harry couldn’t suppress the feeling that something terrible would happen if he wasn’t watching over him.
So, Harry made his way through the stable and greeted Jory with a nod of his head.
“How is he?” Harry asked, glancing across him to see if he could spot the hippogriff hidden inside. He was curled up with his head resting on his front legs, reminding Harry a lot of how resigned he looked after the first time he had been standing trial for hurting another little blond boy.
“How are you, is more accurate?” Jory countered. “Those cuts and the amount of blood that was coming from them sure didn’t look minor.”
“I’m fine for now,” Harry responded. “I want to make sure Buckbeak is alright.”
“He made a bit of a fuss when you left at first, but he’s since calmed down.”
“I’m going to go in,” Harry said, unlatching the gate and stepping inside. Jory didn’t stop him. At the sound of the door unlatching, Buckbeak’s head shot straight up. Harry met his gaze and bowed immediately. Buckbeak stood, making Harry press against the gate to avoid nocking into him. Compared to the size of the hippogriff, the stall was a frightfully tight fit, but Buckbeak managed a bow, just the same.
With his approval, Harry approached and patted the smooth grey feathers of his neck, reprimanding him gently in English, “Good Buckbeak. You got out of it again, but the third time won’t be the charm if you keep it up like this. You can’t do that again. It’ll mean the end if you do.”
Buckbeak’s hooked beak came up and gently ruffled Harry’s mess of black hair.
“Does he understand you?”
Harry turned at the sound of the voice and watched as Arya’s head popped up in the window against the wall that separated them from outside.
“When you talk in your language, does he understand you?”
“Yes. At least I think he does,” Harry answered. “He’s a creature of magic, so he has different abilities that other animals don’t normally have.”
“That must be nice,” Arya said thoughtfully. There was an odd moment of silence between the two of them while Harry patted the hybrid affectionately. “Can I help you, Harry?”
“Help me?”
“With Buckbeak,” she elaborated. “I’d like to spend more time with him and keep him out of trouble. I think it would be something I could do.”
Harry considered it for a moment. “I think you’d need to ask Lord Stark for approval with that. But it will be appreciated if he’s going to stay out of trouble.”
Arya nodded. “Does your back hurt?”
“Not so much right now. It hurts if I lean on it. I’ll probably be sleeping on my stomach for a while. I guess we match now, don’t we?” The last words were for Buckbeak and the hippogriff responded with a soft chirp to that, almost as if he were trying to say sorry.
“It’s alright,” Harry whispered, pressing his forehead to his beak. “I forgive you.”
He could feel Arya’s eyes on him while he did so and wondered what she was thinking. Eventually she spoke, but he wasn’t sure if it had been the thing that she had been originally thinking.
“Do you think you’ll get a scar from it?”
“Probably.”
“It’ll be a nice scar,” the girl said, trying to cheer him up with the idea. “And it’s a good story of how you got it, too. ‘I got this scar protecting a prince from a giant beautiful,” she added quickly looking towards Buckbeak warily, “bird-horse creature!’”
Harry chuckled a bit at the thought. “That would be pretty amazing.”
There was another momentary pause, till Arya broke it again, this time more hesitantly. “Harry?”
“What?”
“How did you get the scar on your forehead? That weird lightning bolt one?”
Harry didn’t answer her right away. None of the Stark children really knew that much about his past. Talking about it was something he had never done with any of them. He hadn’t intentionally avoided it; they had just never asked before. He wondered how much of it she would believe and how much of the true details he really wanted to share with her. How could she believe the truth after all?
They didn’t know it was a mark that meant he had been touched by an evil curse, nor that the darkest wizard that had ever lived had given it to him. And they certainly didn’t know that in some far distant world it was because of that very mark that every magical child knew his name. Here, in this world, he was just Harry, and he didn’t mind it one bit. But she was still waiting for his response, so he gave her an answer that was some of the truth, but a truth she would be able to believe.
“I’ve had it since I was a baby,” he told her. “Some man murdered my parents and tried to murder me, but I got away with just a scar.”
Arya was stunned. “He carved it on you—as a baby?”
“I don’t remember how it happened.”
Harry could feel Arya searching his face. “Why’d he kill them?”
“Because he could, I guess,” Harry shrugged. It was as good a reason as anyone else had in this world for killing someone, so he didn’t feel a need to elaborate further for her, nor did she ask him to.
“So, you’re an orphan,” Arya realized.
“Yeah,” then he looked for her reaction to the news. “Does that change things for you?”
“No, of course not,” she said instantly. “I just realized you’ve lived with us for so long and we still hardly know anything about you.”
“That’s alright,” he chuckled. “A lot of the stuff about me you would hardly believe anyway.”
“Yeah, like how you apparently know a giant, flying bird-horse creature.”
Harry only smiled knowingly at her with that. “Arya, he’s not even the strangest.”
Her eyes went big with that declaration. “Really? What is?”
“Hmm. That’s a hard question. Strangest creature I’ve met so far…” There were so many to choose from. Between dementors and phoenixes, goblins and house elves, or werewolves and ghosts, he couldn’t decide which would be the best answer or the one she was most likely to believe.
“A three-headed dog named Fluffy,” Harry finally answered.
“A three-headed what?”
“A three-headed dog named Fluffy,” he repeated.
Arya smiled awkwardly in disbelief. “You’re teasing me.”
“I’m not. I’ve really seen a three-headed dog named Fluffy. He was actually raised by the same man who introduced me to Buckbeak.”
“For real?”
“Cross my heart. He was as black as a windowless room and a guard dog more vicious than any direwolf, but as my teacher used to say,” Harry’s voice deepened with a thick accent that amused Arya, “the trick with any beast is to know how to calm ‘im. Take Fluffy fer example; just play ‘im a bit of music and ‘e falls straight t’ sleep.”
Arya giggled lightly. “What was your teacher’s name?”
“Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds. The tallest man I’ve ever seen, even taller than Hodor. Eleven feet at the least, and obsessed with monsters of all kinds, especially an oversized spider whose children tried to eat my friend Ron and I.”
Her eyes went big with the tale. “For real?”
“Really real.”
“How’d you escape from that?”
“Through the skins of our teeth and a miracle called Ford Anglia.”
“Who’s Ford Anglia?”
His smiled deepened and he shrugged. “No one in particular.”
Just then, Arya’s head turned to something on the other side of the wall. At the sight of it, her face soured, and her voice grew sharp. “What do you want?”
Harry heard someone’s muffled talking on the other side, but couldn’t guess who it was. They spoke softly and Arya responded with scorn.
“For now, no thanks to you, traitor.”
Harry dodged under Buckbeak’s flank and popped up on the other side, bringing himself face to face with the girl. Harry looked out on the other side, following her gaze to see the newcomer. “Arya, who are you talking to?”
He saw Sansa standing at a distance, clasping her hands in front of her and looking guilty as she spotted his face. Lady was obediently standing at her side.
“Sansa?”
She shuffled her feet and looked down. “I… uh… wanted to see if you were alright. You… you got hurt…”
She trailed off and Harry paused to consider his next move.
“Don’t come closer. Buckbeak might not want you to. I’ll meet you by the doors.”
He inched around the magical animal and exited through the stall gate, passing the guards, and making his way to the far end of the stables, where he met Sansa just as planned. Arya was also there with Nymeria and looking even less pleased with her older sister than she had been at the window.
The redhead looked ashamed as she faced her foster brother.
“I um… I didn’t… I don’t know what to say.”
“You could try saying sorry,” Arya suggested, irritated.
Sansa was far from pleased with the younger girl’s snide suggestion, but it didn’t seem like she had any other ideas nor place to argue with her. So, she straightened her back and took a breath. “I’m sorry.”
Harry looked at her for a moment, then he nodded. “It’s alright. I understand why you did it.”
“You do?” Arya balked at how easily he had forgiven her.
“Joffrey is your betrothed and the first prince. You cannot speak against him. Someday, he will be your family just as we are.”
Sansa looked distressed as her hands came up to clasp her face. “I really didn’t think you would be hurt.”
Harry only waved it off. “It is done. I would rather leave the past where it’s gone. Let’s just move forward.”
Sansa eased with those words. “I suppose I would like to move forward, too.” She smiled and the matter was dropped then and there.
“You should get some rest,” Arya said, looking back at Harry. “You’ve still been badly hurt and you need to have some medicine.”
He took a step back in the direction of the stables. “Actually, I’m going to stay with Buckbeak tonight.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Sansa asked.
“Yes. He’s still roughed up as well, so it’ll do us both some good to stay by each other’s sides.”
Sansa still looked torn about that idea. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“I’ll get the medicine the maester wanted you to take,” and with that, Arya ran off before he could say anything about it, leaving both him and Sansa in the yard. She looked at him and decided it was prudent to offer her own services as her sister had done.
“If you would like, I could get you some blankets?”
“I would appreciate that.”
And like that, Sansa was off as well. They each met him in the window looking into Buckbeak’s stall and handed him the supplies through it. Arya had also run into Mycah on the way to get the blankets and had brought more animal intestines for Buckbeak. Harry sprinkled a bit of his sleeping potion on them and urged the hippogriff to eat it all. The beast complied without any coaxing and lied down on the ground after consuming the whole bucket. It wasn’t long before he had fallen asleep and Harry threw a rug over him, petting him gently as his friend closed his eyes.
With that, Harry lied his head against his scruff and breathed deep, feeling the exhaustion of the day and the effects of the medicine finally claim him as well.
The next time Harry woke up, he was surrounded by warmth on all sides. When he lifted his head and examined why that was, he saw that sometime in the night, Buckbeak had tucked him under his wing to keep him flushed against his flank and shoulder. Harry had felt so comfortable when waking up, that he proceeded with the same sleeping arrangements the following days after.
At that moment however, there were bigger things to worry about. He got up to pop his back, yet immediately stopped when it protested against the stitches to the movement. Buckbeak continued to sleep, but Harry paused when he heard a soft and troubling sound by the window.
To his surprise, when he looked out, he found Arya seated on the log that had propped her up the day before. Nymeria stood next to her while the girl sobbed profusely. Having never known the girl to ever cry so easily, Harry was immediately worried about what was wrong.
“Arya, what happened? Are you hurt? Who did it?”
She hiccupped and wiped at a tear. “N-no.” She tried to explain but the sight of him seemed to spur on more tears and she struggled over her chokes.
There was something so fundamentally wrong about the sight of the normally strong and fearless girl bent over inconsolably that Harry could not waste time circling through the stables to meet her. He feared she might disappear if he took that route and instead pulled himself through the window, ignoring the burn from his back that protested even more fervently than it had when he tried to stretch it. But he didn’t care. He was through the window and had his arms around her in a matter of seconds.
She fell into them and sobbed more. “What’s wrong?” He repeated in a whisper, when there was a moment for her to take a breath.
“M-Mycah… he… he’s dead.”
Harry felt a rock drop in his stomach as he pulled back. “What? How? What happened?”
“They don’t know exactly but they think a venomous snake got into his bed and bit him. He died sometime last night. They only just found him.”
Harry couldn’t believe his ears. He had thought he’d seen the last of any snakes after he found Buckbeak. Wasn’t that why they had dogged him at every turn? This seemed completely out of nowhere. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. That’s what they’re saying. Father spoke to the maester who looked over him and found bite marks on his body.”
“But… that doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t care if it makes sense or not,” she ripped away from him, tears staining her cheeks as she glared in fury. “I hate snakes! I hate snakes forever!”
Then she ran away, Nymeria chasing after her. Harry watched her go, wondering if he ought to follow. He was stopped by a chirp behind him. Buckbeak was poking his head out the window with equal parts concern and curiosity at the sight. Harry looked back at him, his own eyes watery from the news. Mycah had been a good friend to him too, and the idea that the boy was dead so suddenly was somehow inconceivable. The lad stepped up to the beast and held his beak gently.
“I don’t know what happened, buddy, but I very much doubt it was because of a snake. Or at least… not the kind without arms and legs.”
His eyes fell on a banner bearing the Lannister lion sigil and a deep-rooted fury took hold in him as he watched it flap in the breeze.