GOT/ASOIAF: Ruler Beyond the Ice

Aegor quietly returned to his room under the cover of darkness, his heart unable to settle.

This was a colossal gamble, a desperate attempt to rectify his blunder in trying to prevent Bran from falling and to mitigate the troubles he might face when leaving the Wall in the future. It felt like one lie was being patched with another, and while it might hold for now, the risks down the line were no less terrifying than facing the White Walkers. If the truth came to light, as a lowly soldier who had dared to slander a prince, he would undoubtedly face the executioner's blade.

Just as Littlefinger had falsely implicated Tyrion by claiming the dagger used to attack Bran was his, Aegor was now betting that the Starks would react with level-headedness rather than unleashing a storm of fury upon discovering the situation. However, unlike Petyr Baelish, who thrived in chaos to secure power, Aegor's lies were born of necessity. He needed to stabilize the situation long enough to slip away from the Wall, survive, and slowly find a way to shed his Night's Watch identity.

His deep familiarity with the story and its characters gave him confidence, a sense that the odds were in his favor. But no matter how sure he felt, the fact remained that he was risking his life. Now that he had done all he could, whether he lived or died depended entirely on the decisions of those in power.

If he could choose his fate, he would never again want to gamble with his life just to secure his survival.

---

Bran remained unconscious, just as in the original events. His family grieved deeply, but for the other residents of Winterfell, especially the hundreds of guests from King's Landing—life had to carry on. Aegor waited for a quiet moment, then returned the scarecrow and other training equipment from the old inner courtyard to the storage room. In the days that followed, he kept to his quarters, preparing for the day of departure.

Four days later, a servant brought word from Benjen Stark: they would set out the next morning, departing alongside the king and the newly appointed Hand of the King, returning to the Wall.

The morning came with a light dusting of snow in the air. Reluctantly, Aegor left his small room in the guest house. The warmth and soft bed had made it feel like a haven compared to the freezing misery of the Wall. After a quick breakfast, he made his way to the parade ground to wait.

The king was likely still in bed, and neither the Lord of Winterfell nor the First Ranger had arrived. For now, it was only the younger generation and lower-ranking attendants gathering early to prepare for the departure.

It had been five days since Bran's fall, and no one had summoned Aegor for questioning or to confront anyone. This absence of scrutiny was a relief. What reassured him even more was that his intervention had worked: the guards posted at Bran's door had been doubled, both day and night. His daring gamble had paid off—at least partially. Now, as long as the assassin failed to strike again, and Tyrion managed to persuade the Night's Watch leaders to let him leave the Wall as a "supply collector," he might finally have his way out.

He could only hope everything went as planned.

The king's entourage began to gather, followed shortly by Jon Snow. The boy greeted Aegor warmly. Jon had made up his mind to join the Night's Watch and follow his Uncle Benjen to the Wall. To him, Aegor was now both a comrade and a senior, a future brother in black. Even though he knew Aegor was desperate to leave the Night's Watch, Jon instinctively wanted to befriend him.

"Morning," Aegor greeted the boy with a nod. "When I was your age, getting up before dawn was impossible."

Jon grinned. "Starting today, Uncle Benjen is my superior. Ser Rodrik told me I need to make a good impression."

"Well, from someone who's been around a while, I'll tell you this: in a few years, you'll realize that sometimes performing well is more important than actually doing well."

Jon tilted his head in confusion. "Performing well? Isn't that the same as doing well?"

"Sometimes it is. But more often than not, there's a big difference."

The two chatted idly as they strolled through the yard, eventually finding themselves at the blacksmith's shop on the south end of the parade ground. Jon stopped to collect a slender, finely crafted rapier he had commissioned—a gift for Arya.

"A small sword like that? Is it for a girl?" Aegor asked, though he already knew the answer.

Jon carefully inspected the blade, wiping it clean. "Yes, but don't tell anyone. And I won't tell anyone about your... chat with the Imp."

"Deal," Aegor replied with a faint smile, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Hey, boy!" a cheerful voice called out from behind. Jaime Lannister approached, his smile as dazzling as ever. Unlike others who seemed weighed down by Bran's fall, Jaime looked positively delighted to be leaving Winterfell, a place he clearly found stifling.

"You're heading to the Wall today?"

"Yes, Ser Jaime..."

"Then do me a favor and pass my regards to the Night's Watch. It's good to know there are men like you guarding the realm, keeping the wildlings, White Walkers, and other monsters at bay. Thank you for your service." He extended his hand toward Jon, who hesitated before shaking it.

Jaime then turned to Aegor and offered his hand. "And you, White Walker Slayer, make sure to kill as many of those icy bastards as you can. Don't let them through the Wall."

"At your service," Aegor replied stiffly, shaking Jaime's hand. The knight's grip tightened painfully, forcing Aegor to match his strength just to avoid wincing.

"Safe travels," Jaime said casually, releasing his grip and striding off without a backward glance.

Jon frowned as he watched Jaime leave. "What did he mean by that?"

"What else could it mean?" Aegor shrugged, though he understood perfectly well. Jaime's little show of strength had been a subtle warning to keep his mouth shut. Still, with everything else on his mind, Aegor couldn't be bothered to care about the Kingslayer's theatrics. "Southern nobles like him have too much time on their hands and end up acting a bit... eccentric."

Jon nodded thoughtfully before turning to collect the small sword from the blacksmith. "I need to go say goodbye to my brothers and sisters. See you later."

"Go on."

As Jon walked off, Aegor watched him go. The boy had spent his entire life in Winterfell, so leaving wasn't easy for him. Aegor, by contrast, had no family or friends in this city or anywhere else, for that matter. He wandered aimlessly for a while before being flagged down by Tyrion, who had arrived late.

Sitting on the railing at the edge of the parade ground, the two chatted about Aegor's homeland while watching the royal caravan prepare to depart.

Though the sun remained hidden behind clouds, the morning grew steadily brighter. Around nine o'clock, the two most important figures, King Robert and Lord Eddard Stark finally appeared. Their departure was swift and resolute, with heartfelt goodbyes exchanged before they mounted their horses and rode out of Winterfell through the Hunter's Gate.

At the first fork in the road, the king's party turned south, heading toward King's Landing. Meanwhile, Aegor, Benjen, Jon, Tyrion, and his guards turned north, bound for the Wall.

Thus ended Aegor's eventful two weeks in Winterfell, a time filled with danger, indulgence, and unexpected twists. Ahead lay the Wall, still looming as an unyielding fortress, and beyond it, the growing army of the dead, waiting in silence.

*****

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