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Chapter 408
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 12:47:56 +0000 UTCCrawling into bed?
Aegor almost laughed. It was true that this was a deadly weapon when used against men, but Arya seemed to have completely misunderstood how it was supposed to work. If you want to slip into a man’s bed, you do it when he’s drunk or half-asleep, or at the very least, when he’s already in bed. Yet here she was, burrowing in before he had even lain down… How am I supposed to fall for that?
He walked over to the bed, intending to yank back the covers and drag her out. But as his eyes landed on the neatly folded pile of clothes atop the bedside table, he suddenly realized—she had taken everything off.
That complicated things.
No longer daring to act too rashly, he carefully lifted just a corner of the blanket, revealing her head. Hands on his hips, he looked down at her and met her gaze through the layers of fabric.
"A year ago—right here, in this very place—you snuck into my bed. Do you remember what I told you then? ‘If you do this again, don’t call me your master anymore.’"
"Fine, I won’t call you that. Who cares?" Arya grumbled, pulling the covers tighter around herself against the chill. She peeked out just enough to meet his eyes, her expression stubborn and unyielding. "You said all those things to me today. If you don’t sleep with me tonight, then it means you were lying… and tomorrow, I’ll go kill the Mad King’s daughter! If once isn’t enough, I’ll try twice. If twice isn’t enough, I’ll try three times. One way or another, I’ll succeed!"
Aegor was both amused and exasperated. "And what exactly did I say to you?" He counted on his fingers. "Let me remind you: I promised that whenever you come to Crown's Rest, I’ll make time to play with you. I said I’d find a way to break off your engagement. And I guaranteed that you’ll be the first female sworn brother of the Night’s Watch. Am I wrong? Tell me, which part of that requires me to sleep with you to prove I wasn’t lying?"
"You—you—you said you liked me!"
"I never said I liked you! Alright, fine, as your master, I do like you—but is sleeping with someone how you express that?"
"I don’t care! No matter what, I’m sleeping with you tonight!" Arya knew she couldn’t out-argue him, so she simply yanked the blanket back over her head.
The little brat really had backed him into a corner.
The last time this happened, she had taken over his bedroom, and Aegor had solved the problem by leaving and sleeping in the room originally arranged for her. But now, Crown's Rest’s inner keep had no spare rooms left. Even Arya was sharing a chamber with Myrcella.
If Daenerys hadn’t come, he could’ve gone to the tower on the island in the lake—but now? What about finding a place with Melisandre?
Tch. The Red Woman had made it abundantly clear—he was not to disturb her without prior notice.
"If you dare leave this room… I… I…!"
Arya suddenly seemed to remember her previous failure and, terrified that Aegor might run again, poked her head back out to issue her threat.
"I’ll go straight to the Mad King’s daughter—tonight!"
"You little brat!"
Aegor shot her a glare, raising a hand as if to smack her. But before he could act, Arya had already ducked back under the covers, pretending not to hear him.
Aegor wasn’t worried that Arya would actually manage to assassinate Daenerys. Even setting aside the fact that, in this timeline, she had never trained with the Faceless Men in Braavos, it wouldn’t have mattered even if she had.
In his many conversations with Melisandre, he had learned an important truth: the Faceless Men were indeed a top-tier assassination guild, but their reputation had long outgrown their actual abilities. Their mystique was more a product of rumor and exaggeration than reality.
As for their famed ability to change faces?
To those who had mastered true magic, it was nothing more than a parlor trick—something a trained sorcerer could see through at a glance.
Even if Arya was a Faceless Man, she wouldn’t be able to so much as touch Daenerys under Melisandre’s watchful gaze.
What Aegor worried about was not the queen’s safety, but rather Arya herself.
If she caused a scene and Daenerys discovered she was in Crown's Rest… then things could become very complicated indeed.
....
If you were the Mother of Dragons—arriving in neutral Night’s Watch territory with three dragons in tow—only to have the sister of one of your greatest enemies, the ruler of the North, attempt to assassinate you under the cover of night… would you simply laugh it off and say, “She’s just a child, let’s forget about it”?
Daenerys was no saint. She had fought her way here through conquest, fire, and blood, witnessing slaughter and death at every turn. The true dragon’s blood within her came with a flaw—one that Aegor had noticed within minutes of meeting her: emotional volatility.
Her goodwill toward him was not boundless. She was friendly to him because the Night’s Watch was a neutral power worth courting, because he had shown he shared her ideals and ambitions, and because his abilities, means, and influence made him useful in her eyes.
But Aegor was not arrogant enough to believe that her goodwill was strong enough to shield someone else from a dragon’s wrath—especially when Arya was the one in the wrong.
Even if he could eventually convince Daenerys to spare Arya for his sake, he would still owe her a massive favor.
And a favor from a monarch to a subject was never easy to repay.
“So, you’re really set on making your master angry?” Aegor asked, frustration creeping into his tone. “Do your guards know where you are? What about Maeve? Are they looking for you?”
“That lot doesn’t watch me every second,” Arya huffed. “And Maeve… Maeve knows I came to see you.”
Aegor let out a relieved sigh. He stood by the bed, staring at the Stark girl who had taken over his sleeping quarters. Finally, he made up his mind.
“Fine. I’ll sleep here tonight. But you stay put and behave.”
With that, he turned and left the room. After washing up, he headed to the nearby supply storage, fetched a fresh blanket, and returned to his chamber.
Doing anything to Arya was out of the question. But sleeping in the same room—literally—was easy enough to manage.
Ignoring Arya’s protests, he grabbed the blanket she was curled up in, wrapped her up like a cocoon, rolled her over, and then took a strip of cloth to tie it all together—binding her up like a stuffed bundle of bedding.
Only then did he toss his newly acquired blanket onto the now-vacant part of the bed. Whistling lightly, he undressed down to his linen shirt, then slipped under his own covers—still cool, but at least clean and dry.
Arya squirmed her way out just enough to glare at him. “Hey! This is cheating! It doesn’t count! Let me out!”
Let’s see how you cause trouble now.
Aegor chuckled, ignoring her protests as he snuffed out the oil lamp. “Enough. Go to sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow.”
“I can’t breathe!”
“You’re speaking loud and clear. Sounds like you can breathe just fine. Now shut up and sleep.” Aegor tucked himself in, resting against the bundled-up Arya, and closed his eyes in satisfaction.
A year ago, even this technicality of sleeping in the same room would have been impossible.
Back then, it wouldn’t have mattered how innocent it was. If word got out that he had spent the night with Arya under the same roof, who would have believed that nothing happened?
But now?
The path ahead had already been laid out. His next move was set. Even if rumors of Arya spending the night in his chambers were to spread, House Stark would find themselves with far bigger concerns.
Instead of questioning how he dared to share a room with their daughter, they would have to grapple with something much more pressing:
How to deal with an increasingly militant Night’s Watch.
One that had declared for Daenerys Targaryen.
One that had begun recruiting female soldiers.
One that was no longer content to sit idly upon the Wall.
And above all—how to convince Arya, the first Stark in history to willingly don the black, to come home before the black-cloaked army began marching south.
