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Chapter 174
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 22:41:17 +0000 UTCThe “eggs” were placed in their respective baskets as the Night's Watch began preparing to face the impending chaos that would sweep through the Seven Kingdoms. After a grueling night and day of turmoil that left Aegor both mentally and physically exhausted, he delegated the necessary tasks, settled the newly arrived brothers of the Night's Watch, and gathered his trusted companions—Jaqen, the siblings Neil and Nina, and his “personal guard,” everyone who had stood with him through this ordeal—for a grand celebratory feast to mark their victory.
Upon returning to his quarters, Aegor collapsed into bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that a soft cough startled him awake.
Opening his eyes, Aegor saw darkness outside the window, but his room was bathed in the flickering glow of an oil lamp. His mind sharpened immediately—he never slept with the lights on. No matter how lazy or tired, he always extinguished the lamp before closing his eyes. Someone else must have lit it.
Aegor bolted upright in bed, his gaze snapping to the figure seated at the table near his bed. A man was sitting there, staring directly at him.
“Who’s there?” Aegor demanded, his hand instinctively reaching under the pillow to grasp the small dagger hidden there. But in the next moment, he recognized the intruder. “Jaqen! What are you doing here?”
...
Waking up to find an elite assassin at your bedside in the dead of night would chill anyone to the core. But Aegor quickly realized that if Jaqen had intended to kill him, he would already be dead. The fact that he was still breathing meant Jaqen had other motives.
“Someone apologizes—for disturbing the lord’s rest,” Jaqen said calmly.
“What do you want?” Aegor asked, his brow furrowing. He noted that Jaqen was not dressed in the Night's Watch attire he had worn during his time in King’s Landing. Instead, he wore an unremarkable outfit that Aegor had never seen before.
Still gripping the dagger beneath the pillow, Aegor locked eyes with Jaqen. The tension between them was palpable.
“Someone is here to bid the lord farewell,” Jaqen said, his tone as measured as ever. “Does the lord recall our agreement? That someone would inform you before leaving.”
“Yes, I remember,” Aegor said, recalling his long-standing confusion over why Jaqen had lingered in King’s Landing. Just as he had decided to stop questioning it, Jaqen had come to say goodbye at the most unexpected hour. “But… why couldn’t you wait until morning? Why wake me in the middle of the night?”
“Someone asks for forgiveness again, but someone must catch the first ship setting sail today. Time is short, and manners must be sacrificed.”
(What an infuriatingly straightforward man. He could’ve just left a note, but no, he had to come scare me in the dead of night.) Aegor sighed inwardly. He felt a pang of regret—whatever Jaqen’s reasons for staying, having such a skilled individual around had made him feel far safer. Losing such a capable protector was undeniably a blow.
Releasing the dagger, Aegor rubbed his temples. “Since you’re in such a rush, I won’t try to stop you. But if you’d told me earlier, I could’ve prepared a proper send-off. Regardless, thank you for saving my life the other night.”
“It was within someone’s duties,” Jaqen replied. “But before leaving, someone wishes to ask one final question, and hopes for the lord’s honest answer.” He fixed Aegor with an intense gaze. “The ‘wight’ brought into King’s Landing by the Night's Watch—are there truly thousands beyond the Wall? Are the Others a fabrication meant to secure aid, or do they truly exist? Can the Night's Watch hold the Wall against such foes?”
Why was Jaqen so concerned about this? Aegor thought back to how Jaqen’s demeanor had shifted ever since seeing the wight—going from silent and reserved to uncharacteristically talkative, bombarding him with questions. Now, Jaqen was preparing to leave, and yet he couldn’t depart without personally confirming the situation. What was the connection between the lands beyond the Wall and a top agent of Braavos?
...
After a moment of thought, the answer clicked for Aegor. The situation beyond the Wall was indeed tied to Braavos. The Iron Throne was the Iron Bank’s largest client and debtor. If humanity’s enemies from beyond the Wall broke through and turned Westeros into a hellscape, Braavos would never recover the loans it had extended to the Seven Kingdoms.
In this era of limited resources, the millions of gold dragons owed to the Iron Bank represented an incomprehensible fortune. Losing that money would cause severe disruptions to the Bank’s financial stability. Simply put, if the Long Night and the Others were real, Westeros—separated from them by only a single Wall—would become a “high-risk client” that the Bank would shun. Braavos might even begin efforts to recover its existing debts as quickly as possible.
Was Jaqen planning to report this potential catastrophe back to Braavos? Or did the Faceless Men have their own interest in studying the wights—perhaps even creating an undead army of their own?
...
“There is not a single lie in what I say. The situation beyond the Wall is far worse than words can describe. Wights are not limited to reanimated humans. Far more terrifying and powerful creatures exist among them. And the worst part is, there are tens of thousands of Free Folk beyond the Wall, waiting to become fresh fodder for the Others. As winter deepens, their numbers will grow from thousands to tens of thousands.” Aegor leaned forward, still in his nightclothes, feeling as though he were being interrogated. “The wights and Others cannot cross the Wall on their own, but with the freezing of the sea beyond Eastwatch and the western canyon near the Shadow Tower, the Wall’s defense is far from impenetrable. The Night’s Watch lacks the manpower, resources, and strength to fully utilize the Wall’s potential. Otherwise, do you think the Lord Commander would break tradition by sending men south for trade and training?”
Jaqen sat silently for a few moments before nodding. He rose from his seat. “Someone understands. Then, my lord, farewell. Perhaps we will meet again.”
Farewell? Aegor doubted it. Watching Jaqen walk toward the door, he was struck by the sudden certainty that this was the last time he would ever see Jaqen H’ghar. Acting on impulse, he called out, “Wait. I answered your question. May I ask one in return? You don’t have to answer.” The question wasn’t about profits or the future of the Night’s Watch—it was purely personal curiosity. “Why did you sneak into the royal library in the first place?”
“Someone has already answered that—someone was searching for books on dragons, and that was no lie,” Jaqen said, pausing at the door. “But someone admits to concealing the truth. The curiosity about dragons was not someone’s own—it belonged to a friend. A certain prophecy claims that the ‘stone dragon’ will soon awaken. This friend obtained a dragon egg and believed it could be hatched. So, someone came to Westeros to seek out the methods left behind by House Targaryen.”
A friend? Using the “friend” excuse, just like people in this era. If Aegor had to guess, the “friend” was none other than the Faceless Men. It seemed the theory about Euron Greyjoy trading a dragon egg to hire the Faceless Men to assassinate Balon Greyjoy was true after all.
“But alas,” Jaqen continued, “the prophecy of the stone dragon awakening was fulfilled by a Targaryen girl. Instead of searching in vain for ways to hatch a dragon egg, someone believes it is far more important to bring news of the wights back home to warn others.”
“I see… Safe travels, then.”
“Thank you, my lord.” For the first time, Jaqen offered a faint smile. “The lord saved someone from the cart bound for the Wall, and as agreed, someone will repay their debt. Within a few months, you shall receive the promised payment.”
“No need. You saved my life. That debt has been paid.”
“The one who owed a debt was Jaqen H’ghar, the man captured and bound for the Wall. The one who saved the lord was Jaqen H’ghar, the Night's Watch employee. These are separate matters.” Turning away, Jaqen opened the door. “Dawn is near. Someone must reach the harbor before the ship departs. Farewell.”
Jaqen disappeared into the misty dawn. Sitting on his bed, Aegor absentmindedly touched his shoulder, where only a shallow wound remained. Thinking back, Jaqen had stayed by his side for months, and yet the two had spoken more in a single night than they had in all that time combined. Though Jaqen had never openly admitted to being a Faceless Man, he had shared far more information than Aegor had ever expected.
Aegor couldn’t help but wonder: if someone hired the Faceless Men to kill him, how high would the price be?
It was still early, but sleep was no longer an option. Aegor dressed and stepped into the courtyard to exercise, ready to face the second day of King’s Landing’s upheaval.
...
The summons came far sooner than anticipated. Aegor had just informed Neil and Nina of Jaqen’s departure and was preparing to leave for the Night's Watch office when several Gold Cloaks arrived at his residence, announcing that the Hand of the King demanded his presence for questioning.
Prepared for this, Aegor remained calm, adjusted his attire, and left with them, exuding such authority that even the Gold Cloaks escorting him seemed unsure of themselves.
