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Chapter 364
🕑 Added 2025-01-29 12:33:29 +0000 UTCSharpening the axe won’t delay chopping wood. With his head and shoulders thoroughly massaged and official information about Daenerys in hand, Aegor felt his thoughts finally clearing up.
His earlier hesitation over Melisandre’s proposal stemmed mainly from three unknowns: After the timeline had diverged so drastically, Daenerys’s exact whereabouts were unclear. If she wasn’t easy to locate, searching for her could waste significant time and energy given the slow dissemination of information and the sheer distance, he could arrive in King’s Landing only to find it already reduced to ash by her dragons, making the entire trip futile. The Others could attack while he was away, and his absence could devastate morale, rendering all his preparations meaningless.
All three boiled down to one concern: time.
Now, however, the first two issues had been resolved. Daenerys was most likely on Dragonstone, and thanks to Stannis’s robust military preparations, she probably wouldn’t assault King’s Landing immediately. Combined with Melisandre’s unwavering certainty, Aegor suddenly realized the variables he so hated had been reduced to a minimum. Any further hesitation would make him seem like a coward.
Some risks had to be taken. If time was the issue, then the answer was simple: leave quickly and return just as fast—better than endless deliberation!
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“No! Absolutely not!” Arya immediately objected, her tone fierce. “I hardly ever get to see you, and now you’re leaving again? Can’t you wait until I’ve gone?”
“If I could wait, I wouldn’t have been agonizing over it all this time.” Aegor sighed helplessly. “Do you think the Gift is some kind of paradise? You and your mother came at the worst possible time. Once your business here is done, you should hurry back to Winterfell. Soon, this place will be packed with refugees from all over, and you won’t even have a place to sleep.”
“You… you… you—” Arya was so upset that her voice cracked, almost trembling with tears. She couldn’t understand Aegor’s well-meaning intentions to keep her safe. All she saw was her mentor rushing off to meet “another woman” and trying to send her away.
“Alright, alright,” Aegor conceded quickly, realizing his mistake. As Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, his decision to head south to meet Daenerys and Stannis was a serious and official matter. Why had he framed it to Arya in a way that made it seem like a personal request? “You can stay as long as you like. I’ll come back as soon as I can, okay? Now, how was your conversation with your mother and Bran earlier? Did Bran agree to go back with you?”
Arya’s limited experience left her vulnerable to Aegor’s diversion. Her focus shifted seamlessly. “Oh, right. I almost forgot! Bran’s gotten so strange! I asked him where he went all that time, and what happened to Hodor, Summer, and the Reed boy… but he refused to say anything. He just talked about how he could ‘see everything now.’ It didn’t make much sense, but the gist was that he’s determined to stay with the Night’s Watch. And somehow, my mother ended up agreeing with him!”
“So, your brother has officially decided to join the Night’s Watch?”
“Pretty much…” Arya replied uncertainly. “Bran said he had something to discuss with Mother alone, so he told me to leave. That’s why I came here.”
“Something to discuss with your mother alone?” Aegor repeated, puzzled. That Bran could persuade Catelyn to let him join the Night’s Watch wasn’t surprising—tradition, precedent, and millennia of accumulated wisdom were on his side. Even Aegor, the Gift’s overlord, often found himself swayed by Bran’s rhythm in conversation. But what could he possibly have to discuss with Catelyn that Arya couldn’t hear? That was genuinely strange.
As he mulled over this, Aegor suddenly felt a weight on his shoulders. Arya, who had been pretending to massage him from behind, had somehow slipped her arms forward and was now leaning over the back of his chair, her body practically pressed against his back, her little head resting on his left shoulder.
“Master~” Arya drawled in a cloying, syrupy tone that immediately set off alarms in Aegor’s head. Whatever she wanted, it wasn’t going to be good.
“Stop that. Speak normally. And—get your chin off my shoulder, it’s poking me.”
Feigning anger, Arya gave him a light shove, only to lean further forward, trapping his shoulder between her neck and chin. Her soft, slender neck wasn’t poking him anymore, but her face was now practically brushing his cheek.
“You gave me such bad advice last time,” Arya said, her tone switching to mock seriousness. “So I thought about it carefully and came up with a better idea: why don’t I just join the Night’s Watch? That’d save all the trouble of dealing with that idiot!”
You too? Aegor groaned inwardly. “Didn’t I already tell you? The Night’s Watch doesn’t accept women.”
“But you’re the Lord Commander! I looked it up—you can change the rules!” Arya countered triumphantly, clearly having come prepared.
“Sure, I can, but what’s the point of laws if I rewrite them just to suit one person?” Aegor replied firmly.
“Pleeease?” Arya whined, pressing her face against his and rubbing her cheek against his like a kitten. Her breath tickled his collar, and her weight pushed against him insistently.
Aegor stiffened. A proper soft girl like Myrcella could make this kind of act seem natural and endearing. But Arya? Her exaggerated performance sent shivers down his spine, the sheer artificiality making his skin crawl. Straightening his posture, Aegor resolved not to turn his head—he didn’t want this moment spiraling into the kind of ridiculous, accidental intimacy one might find in cheesy light novels. Arya Stark might be pretty and charming, but she was firmly on his “do not cross the line” list.
“Alright, fine,” he said, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Ask your mother at dinner. If she agrees, I’ll change the rules and make you the first female member of the Night’s Watch. How’s that?”
“You—you—you’re impossible!” Arya punched him lightly in frustration, quickly catching on that he was brushing her off.
“Fine, don’t like me anymore then,” Aegor said teasingly. “And get off my shoulders—you’re heavy.”
Seeing that her whining wasn’t working, Arya switched tactics, releasing his neck and sniffling. “Master, why do I feel like you don’t care about me at all? Am I just a tool to you, someone to provide insider information?”
“Of course not,” Aegor said, caught off guard by the guilt trip. “You’re my most beloved, most talented student. But in this world, not everyone and everything can go your way. I promise, once the war is over, I’ll seriously think of a way for you. Alright?”
“Not alright!”
“Enough,” Aegor said firmly, standing up and pulling her off him. “Let’s go to the kitchen and see what you want for dinner. Later, you can ask your mother if she’ll let you join the Watch.”
----
Later that evening, in the great hall of Crowntown’s keep, Aegor hosted a formal dinner with Lady Stark and her “three children.” The two parties shared a cordial meal, discussing various topics. Unsurprisingly, Aegor didn’t bring up Arya’s wild idea. Instead, Catelyn mentioned her wish to continue north to visit the Wall and the frontline soldiers.
Aegor found her request reasonable, though he suspected it might have been Bran’s suggestion during their private conversation. Still, he had no reason to object and made arrangements accordingly. During the meal, he also announced his intention to sail south to King’s Landing to seek aid from Stannis.
As he made the declaration, Aegor discreetly observed Bran’s reaction. If the greenseer warned of an imminent attack by the Others, the plan would be scrapped immediately. But Bran only gave a subtle nod, saying nothing.
The dinner concluded with little fanfare. Arya was dragged off by her mother, and Aegor returned to his quarters after delegating tasks to his subordinates.
The night was unusually clear—bright moon, sparse stars, not a cloud in sight.
Moved by the rare weather, Aegor changed course and headed to Melisandre’s chambers.
“What is it?” the Red Priestess asked, surprised to see him. She stood in the doorway, frowning. “Didn’t I tell you I’d come to you? I need to conserve my strength for tomorrow.”
Aegor cut straight to the point. “Pack your things. We’re leaving now.”
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked, startled. “Weren’t you still hesitating earlier?”
“I’ve decided. The weather is perfect tonight. If we leave now, we’ll be on a ship to Dragonstone by dawn. If the clear skies hold, we’ll save at least two days.”
Melisandre exhaled sharply, glancing at the night sky herself before shaking her head. “Alright, give me a moment.”
