Chapter 17 Robb, Jaime

Robb

Two days after Lady Maege was named Lady of the Iron Islands, Robb set sail back north in his newly built fleet from the shipyards of Braavos. Despite the Braavosi boasting of creating a ship per day, it took them over eight months to deliver thirty steamships. This was due to the need to renovate their shipyards, change the ship designs, and manufacture engines, gears, shaft, and propellers to power the ships.

The fame of the Braavosi was well-founded, and shipbuilding was truly their life. It's worth noting that all engine parts were almost handmade. Despite Robb providing plans for high furnaces and casting steel for quality boilers, they still required manual work and ingenuity to assemble stable boilers, avoiding pressure leaks.

Robb sailed on a two-hundred-meter-long ship with three decks, powered by two steam engines. Its distinctive feature was the smoking chimneys, and it boasted fifty rifled cannons on each side, using cartridge ammunition with nitrocellulose-based gunpowder, ensuring victory over any current fleet.

The lords of the Seven Kingdoms were astonished as, a few days earlier, half a salvo of shots turned an old ship the king donated into splinters to showcase his new weapons.

These would be the kingdom's weapons once the army was created, but for now, Robb could make use of them. Stannis received the thirty invincible leviathans and sent twenty-five to conquer the Iron Islands, leaving five for Robb.

As compensation for Robb, Stannis handed over command of fifty ships from his own fleet, which would help him transport a part of his army north in the shortest time possible.

With fifty-five ships at his disposal, Robb could load five thousand elites needed to defend the Wall and send the rest by land to reintegrate into northern life and its workforce, thus beginning the industrial development of the north almost a year after arriving or updating his presence in this world, whatever happened.

In eleven months, Robb had already won the war that was supposed to be his death, and he had spare time to visit King's Landing, thwart many power plans of the Seven Kingdoms' conspirators, and father an heir, who was already on the way to Winterfell, in his mother's womb.

The war had always favored Robb because he had the eyes of two green-seers to spy for him and provide real-time information. However, now he was heading towards the White Walkers, magical beings he couldn't spy on.

Robb's advantage over them was that he knew a bit about their plans and could take away a significant part of their undead forces if he could bring the Free Folk to this side of the Wall. This, combined with what he had already done, would give him an easy victory. In addition, Robb didn't have many ideas if he had to fight a war. He could try to hasten things on Daenerys's side to see if he could obtain Valyrian steel by forging weapons with a dragon's fire and have around three thousand archers ready to greet the White Walkers with a rain of Valyrian steel over their heads.

If that wasn't enough to scare them and make them go back to their slumber waiting for another long night where he wasn't present, then he would have serious problems, Robb thought. But for now, all these problems were months away, and he could focus on drawing plans for his industrial revolution in the comfort of his cabin.

Robb took a deep breath and prepared to make the plans. He would have to do them without his trusted graphic designer, who was the skilled draftsman, Lady Catelyn Stark, because she was on her way to Winterfell. As soon as she arrived and realized her daughters weren't there, only the gods and his remaining children could prevent her from pursuing him.

…

A few days later, Robb stood at the bow of his steamship with Grey Wind at his side and a raven on his shoulder. A guard of twenty men surrounded him twenty meters away. On the horizon, black storm clouds were visible, and a strong breeze brought them toward his fleet at great speed.

"It's just a summer storm, common in these waters. Your fleet may lose one or two ships, but they'll endure, and I don't believe the ship you're on will be affected," said the three-eyed raven calmly.

"Robb, be brave," Bran said, using his own words against him.

"A storm is nothing; we've seen several; they're just drizzles," declared Arya, who was in the Summer Sea, where there were no storms.

"Everything will be fine," Sansa reassured.

"Kill it," advised Rickon, and Robb rolled his eyes. "Their mothers," Robb insulted in his mind.

"Hey, I heard that," Bran complained.

"What did he say?" Arya asked curiously.

"Nothing. And Bran, stop snooping in people's thoughts," Robb reprimanded. "Now pay attention to your older brother, who could kick the bucket at any moment."

"This is not a drizzle or a bit of wind; it's a galactic-level storm whose thunder shakes an entire fleet, making the wood of their ships creak. Its winds can toss Greatjon into the air like a leaf, and its lightning can snap a ship's mast and set it ablaze as a bonus.

"That's why your brother, who has stared death in the face twice, is calling for help. So, more seriousness!" scolded Robb.

Westerosi sea storms were no joke and sank entire fleets. After ten days of travel, they had encountered one, and Robb was aware that he was standing on a piece of wood, which in turn rested on an ocean of terrifying water.

Robb was a land animal. Barely losing the ground under his feet, he began to feel uncomfortable, let alone falling into the water in a storm. Undoubtedly, panic would overtake him, and he would drown. He didn't even like swimming in pools, and the sea gave him the creeps because he had watched the movie "Jaws" when he was little and was traumatized for life.

"You're afraid of water," accused Rickon, bursting into laughter.

"It's over, no more sweets for you for a whole day," scolded Robb, who was the head of this family, but his brothers didn't take him seriously.

"No!" shouted Rickon.

"Silence, or it'll be for two days," warned Robb, and Rickon fell silent. The others also kept quiet because he could punish them too. "Lord Raven, don't try to charm me; I know you can stop a storm.

"The Children of the Forest sank an entire piece of the continent, and I know Melisandre can secure a storm-free journey just by burning some puppet. And this is not sinking kilometers of land; it's just affecting the temperature, the White Walkers do it all the time," said Robb, making it clear that they couldn't fool him with lies. He saw the three-eyed raven grimace.

"I can control storms!" Bran said with wide-open eyes of excitement and surprise. The three-eyed raven sighed in regret.

"I'll die before my time!" lamented the three-eyed raven in a murmur.

"That's not fair!" Arya complained.

"We should unleash a storm on the Ironborn," suggested Rickon.

"Calm down, Bran, behave. If I catch you playing with storms, I'll seal your magic, and remember that the war with the South is over, and in the next one, we won't need your vision," warned Robb.

"I promise I won't play with storms!" swore the little troublemaker, who broke promises as easily as drinking water.

"This will end badly," said the three-eyed raven, who had as much confidence in Bran's promises as he did.

"There's no choice. If I hadn't chosen to put down roots beyond the Wall, this wouldn't have happened," said Robb.

The reason Bran had to calm the storm was that the three-eyed raven was surrounded by the White Walkers, and if he used his magic blatantly, they would attack him. Therefore, the usual procedure was to teach Bran and have him act.

"Bran," said the three-eyed raven.

"Yes!" said Bran with excitement.

Too much excitement. It was clear that the little troublemaker was planning something, but they couldn't do anything except punish him when he got too clever.

Ten minutes later, as the rain wave was approaching the ships, and old Karstark, alongside Greatjon replacing Maege Mormont as his honor guard, urged him to take cover below deck, the breeze disappeared with a sudden change in temperature. A minute later, the clouds also vanished, leaving the horizon clear.

"Excellent!" praised Robb.

"It's incredible!" said Sansa.

"He killed the storm," said Rickon.

"I'm training a dragon to be its rider," contributed Arya. Each of her comments elicited a grimace from the three-eyed raven.

"Girl, dragons are dangerous creatures; few skinchangers dared to try becoming a rider in the past, and many of them ended up turned into charcoal.

"Don't underestimate the magic of a dragon; they are not creatures like humans, not even similar; their magic is transcendent and affects the whole world. Not even a greenseer would dare to try to force their magic against a dragon," warned the three-eyed raven.

"I don't plan to subdue it; I'm its friend!" retorted Arya. The three-eyed raven sighed.

Robb shifted his mind from the conversation because the people on the ship were staring at the clear horizon with open mouths.

"The Old Gods are watching us and want us to reach the Wall!" shouted Robb after turning around and nudged Grey Wind to support him with a wolf howl that sent shivers down the spine. The ship's crew cheered, and their morale soared.

"I don't know why, but your words sound blasphemous," growled old Karstark approaching him, after his guard made way.

"Grandfather Karstark, you're too touchy with me. I remind you that a dignified bearing is also of vital importance for a lord. I can't have a nanny scolding me for every little thing," said Robb.

"It's true, no one will respect a child subjected to his lords," supported Greatjon. Old Karstark shook his head.

"We need another honor guard," he complained.

"Old man, are you questioning my honor?" reprimanded Greatjon.

"No, I question your brain. The boy has already trained you in just ten days; that's the only way to explain why someone whom the entire kingdom believes needs to be put in line is subjected to his lords," scolded old Karstark and immediately went to find a replacement for Greatjon among the other lords.

Robb put a hand on Greatjon's shoulder.

"He's an old grouch," Robb consoled, but apparently, Greatjon wasn't as foolish as they said and looked at him suspiciously, then shrugged him off and walked away with his head held high.

It seemed that Greatjon took the words of old Karstark seriously.

"Well, it doesn't matter, whether they replace him or not, it's a gain," thought Robb calmly, because if Greatjon left his post, he would also be rid of his shouts, and there were few lords who could resist his manipulations, besides the stubborn old Karstark and the unyielding She-Bear, whom he had already dealt with in King's Landing.

Robb pretended to look back at the horizon to declare his victory, but he met the gaze of a woman clad in a red dress, with fiery hair fixed on him. Robb had to make an effort not to reach for his back, where he carried Ice. Melisandre smiled at him from about thirty meters away.

Robb could only curse Stannis's audacity for sending her to the Wall with him to get rid of her. Robb clenched his teeth and, as he had been doing since she boarded, ignored her and looked back at the horizon, but sighed because this time Melisandre walked towards him.

Robb could almost see her advancing towards him while his sturdy and well-trained guards' legs trembled, wondering if they would fall victim to some curse if they stood in the way of a witch.

Melisandre was not like other women in this world; she had a self-confidence that exceeded one hundred percent, and each of her steps revealed it. She acted as if she were absolutely invulnerable, and somehow managed to make others believe it.

After thinking for a few seconds, Robb decided to spare his guards any trouble and, at once, confront Melisandre, now that old Karstark was not around, to draw his sword as soon as she blasphemed about the Old Gods.

The guards let Melisandre pass, while Grey Wind, who as usual was standing guard seriously, was by his side. Robb didn't turn, and Melisandre didn't complain either, resting her arms on the ship's railing next to him. His two guards from his five-man guard, whom Queen Selyse had assigned him, faithful fanatics of the Red God, stayed beyond his guard, under their watchful eyes, as the witch was no longer there to intimidate them.

"My Lord Wolf, you don't seem too concerned about our enemy tracking your movements," said Melisandre, who in the original story burned a guy just to have a good trip to the Wall. Robb couldn't help but look at her.

"My lady, in another life, you did just the same," complained Robb. Melisandre smiled.

"Well, I suppose that will save us time," said Melisandre with a smile. "My Lord Wolf, you have interfered with the plans of the Lord of Light, and this does not look favorably upon you, for having diverted his chosen one from his path," accused Melisandre.

"Your god was going to let an entire army die, just to gain Stannis's faith; his methods are too cruel, and I believe he can keep his help. I'll manage on my own.

"You don't lose much either. Stannis's path was doomed to failure. He was just a tool for your god to send you with someone else, or so I deduce from my knowledge of the future, where you were at the Wall, far from Stannis and next to a dragon prince who would be killed. And you did nothing more than spout nonsense. I would say you were planning something else," accused Robb.

Melisandre seemed a bit surprised and, after thinking for a few seconds, spoke:

"Are you suggesting that I intended to bring him back to life?" asked Melisandre. Robb nodded.

"I think that would have given him many benefits in terms of magic because if anyone can be a being of extraordinary power, as your prophecy describes, it's the guy from the Wall," said Robb.

Jon's potential was enormous, with a bloodline of Ice and Fire. He had the blood of the Starks and also that of the Targaryens. If his magic awakened, he would be one of the perfect candidates for the Azor Ahai mentioned so much by this woman. But Robb was not convinced by this prophecy, and that savior hero did not seem like a good guy to him, as the stories of his deeds and how he acquired his sword, Lightbringer, did not suggest anything good.

Robb would not allow them to turn Jon into something like that. Nor would he let the red god wreak havoc at the Wall, letting people die en masse until they had no choice but to turn to him.

"And who would this dragon we're talking about be? Your cousin or your political great-uncle?" Melisandre asked brazenly.

"My cousin," said Robb, rolling his eyes.

The entire realm already knew about Jon, thanks to the leaked book he gave to Stannis, to keep him informed of all of Varys's movements. Thanks to the book's leak, Stannis, who didn't want to create a martyr, saved his neck, and he still had him imprisoned.

"Melisandre, I warn you, if anything happens to Jon, you better prepare two resurrections instead of one," warned Robb, and Melisandre smiled to indicate that his threats slid off her.

Robb, who knew his magic was limited and that with his Valyrian steel sword, he could protect himself from her tricks, paid no attention to her arrogance and gazed at the horizon.

"Storm, eat dust," said Robb with satisfaction, boasting about others' achievements to forget about Melisandre.

Not a single one of his ships would be touched. And if he allowed a storm to get him into trouble, with all the knowledge he possessed of this world, then he was an idiot. This time it was Melisandre who looked at him.

Robb's journey continued without problems, with favorable winds and storms disappearing in front of him, earning him his second favorable nickname, the Sea Wolf, which, at worst, was neutral.

…

Twenty days later, thanks to the favorable winds that supported the non-steam ships, they reached the Wall. Robb observed the immense structure from sunrise until mid-morning when the port of the Night's Watch became visible.

Robb looked at his prisoners on the bow of the ship. These were the survivors of the executions carried out by Stannis, which took place on the same day as the demonstration of the new ships and weapons of war.

The executions took place in a public square, where Cersei, Joffrey, The Mountain, and Ser Amory Lorch were beheaded. The surviving Lannisters were allowed to witness everything before being exiled to the Free Cities.

Robb saw it all from a privileged place next to the king. Robb had mixed feelings about these executions. This was personal for him, and he had no doubt that he wanted to be there, but it was nothing like Littlefinger's death. Joffrey cried, screamed, and, in the end, put on a deplorable show. That only caused him disgust.

Joffrey had ordered his father's death, but he was unable to face his own with dignity, which left a bad taste in Robb's mouth. Joffrey was garbage, and he died like garbage; he was not a worthy enemy. His father died because of the whims of garbage, and it was not a dignified death; it was not the way his father should have died.

Robb regretted bringing Joffrey there. Letting him live until he felt good about killing him was what he wanted at that moment, but it was too late, and he had to settle for what happened.

After Joffrey, it was Cersei's turn, who cursed everyone, even the gods, and her brother for abandoning her. Ser Amory Lorch followed Cersei and died screaming for mercy, just like Joffrey, making Oberyn Martell wear the same grim expression as Robb, who at that moment understood his feelings perfectly.

After Ser Amory Lorch, they brought in The Mountain, but he was a walking corpse, only moving because several men dragged his body. People commented that the giant had fallen into the hands of the Wolf, and they were surprised that he made it to the execution. Rumors had spread that even gagged, The Mountain's screams were heard throughout the camp as the northern and river armies marched to King's Landing.

Oberyn Martell was not pleased with this, as he had demanded from Stannis that they hand over The Mountain, and Stannis only gritted his teeth and kicked him out of his throne room in a bad mood.

Despite his aversion to executions, the deaths of the quartet were a bit of justice. It was still twisted justice, and Robb could only have it because he won the war, but until new laws were created, it was all he could have. The Mountain and Ser Amory deserved a thousand similar deaths.

Cersei at least two, and Joffrey one. So justice was served, but Robb was not satisfied. He didn't like it, and it didn't make him feel anything good, just an unpleasant sensation in his stomach that still, after twenty days, returned to him when he thought about it, making him want to spit to the side, as his lords did, because he didn't feel it was the ending it should have…

"My lord, I think the same as you; these ones should have been executed," declared the Great Jon, looking at the group of exiles to the Wall, where the brothers of the Kingsguard whom Stannis did not consider worthy of losing their heads were, as their crime was not having honor or morals, so he gave them the option to go to the Wall.

Brienne and Loras were also there, one due to her family's intervention and the other due to her own intervention. Lancel Lannister, whom, after throwing him into a black cell, suddenly repented of his wrongs and begged Stannis to let him go to the Wall, was also there. Stannis gritted his teeth, but for some reason, he seemed to believe him and saved his head.

Robb sighed and shook his head, but he didn't say anything. He looked back at the Wall, hoping that his upset stomach would calm down again, as it did in war when he left piled-up corpses behind…

Robb frowned as he saw one of the exiles leaving the group, looking at him, and heading towards him. Because of this, he shifted his gaze from the Wall and directed it toward the person visible in the peripheral areas of his vision to see that it was Brienne of Tarth.

The guards reached for their swords and hurried to block the tall woman's path, taller than all of them, with an ungraceful face, muscular and small-chested. She was a worthy opponent for the She-Bear, although she had beautiful blue eyes, too honest and clear for her other features to dominate them. Outside of these eyes, she seemed threatening, so her guards, despite being unarmed and without armor, wearing pants, a tunic, and boots like the other exile companions, blocked her way.

"My lord, I would like to speak with you," said Brienne, and Grey Wind, who was sleeping by his side, raised his head to see what the fuss was about. Then he went back to sleep.

Robb raised his hand to let her pass, and she was escorted by three guards. The rest kept their positions. Brienne frowned at the heaviness of her guard but walked until she stopped three meters away from him.

"Lady Brienne, good morning. You are free to speak," said Robb.

"My lord," greeted Brienne with a bow. "My lord, I've been told that you interceded for me with Stannis, but we've never met before, and I wanted to know if someone else requested this of you," Brienne asked straightforwardly. Robb smiled.

"Lady Brienne, we've never met, but I know of you, and you are one of the few people I admire in this world. It was my wish that you continue to live after your disastrous decision to support Renly in his attempt to usurp the throne," Robb said.

"Renly Baratheon was the rightful lord of Storm's End," argued Brienne, restraining her anger.

"And Stannis sent an assassin for him, which is why you demand his head," Robb said, completing what she didn't say.

"Not just that, he used dark magic, he has no honor," declared Loras, approaching when he heard the conversation, but as the guards stopped him five meters away from him, he spoke from there.

"Honor?" Robb asked with a grimace. "I don't think you want to wield that argument to defend Renly. Firstly, Renly was only the lord of Storm's End because Robert Baratheon was negligent in his duties.

Secondly, Renly Baratheon owed loyalty to his brother, and proclaiming himself king makes him a traitor, and one to his own blood, for no other reasons than ambition and desires for power. He had no honor to cling to or claim," Robb said with a sigh. The pain on Brienne's face was evident.

"Stannis is a murderer of his own blood," sentenced Loras. Robb shook his head.

"Stannis did not order Renly's death, but he is aware that he died because of him," Robb said.

"Who ordered it?" Brienne asked with clenched fists.

"Lady Brienne, by the way Renly died, I believe you already know the answer to that question," answered another voice, behind him, and to which his guards stopped without any hesitation, with expressions of hostility.

Robb was about to reach for the recovered Ice, hanging on his back and his only defense against magic, but he restrained himself in time and signaled the guards to let her pass.

Melisandre advanced confidently, as if they had never stopped her. Robb gave Brienne a stern look, who was examining the guards' weapons.

"Your lord made the foolish mistake of opposing the will of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, and the only true god, so he decreed his death, but if you want the instrument of his order, that would be me," declared Melisandre. Rickard Karstark, who was approaching behind her, spat on the ground.

"In the North, we worship the Old Gods, not foreign gods," reproached him. Robb wanted to get away from there, but he was in the middle of everyone.

"My lord should refrain from making arrogant statements, especially since your lord is not known for being mute and has remained silent in the face of my words, which should inform you that the power of R'hllor is real," Melisandre reproached with a tone of superiority.

"Damn," thought Robb. This woman had already involved him, and he could no longer ignore her, as he did before.

"My lady, do not misinterpret my silence. The reason I keep quiet is that you are an envoy of the king, and you have full freedom to do or say whatever you wish, as long as you stay within the law," clarified Robb without going into details.

Brienne kept her teeth clenched, and like Loras, she glanced at the guards' weapons.

"Lady Brienne, Ser Loras, we are heading into a war that we may not be able to win, or even face. You may die alongside this woman. Save your strength and do not lose your honor in vengeance that would shame and cause tragedies to your families by attacking an envoy of the king," warned Robb. His threat worked because Brienne and Loras looked at him with anger.

"Both of you come from noble families, and you know that your actions have repercussions for these," reprimanded Robb, and as he was already upset, he ordered his guards to expel all of them, except Melisandre, who left on her own.

…

Jaime

Jaime Lannister blocked a swing of the sword with his shield and took three steps back, cursing under his breath. Ser Alliser Thorne, his training partner, mocked him and stopped attacking. Jaime shook his right arm to relieve the cramp that had made him use his shield and step back.

"Does the Lame Lord need a break?" asked Ser Alliser with an unpleasant smile.

Before, when the master-at-arms returned from King's Landing, the bastard was not kind to him, but they maintained a relationship of respect. However, now that his family had fallen out of favor, he had given him a nickname and treated him like any other recruits he used to abuse.

Jaime had already tried to leave him without teeth, but his right arm, which had the splints removed a month ago, still cramped every time he made more than a few cuts.

The maester looked at him every day and said he was improving, and Jaime had to accept that it was true, for when they removed the splints that immobilized him after six months, he couldn't even move it, and he spent two weeks suffering excruciating pain while they moved his arm to recover. From that to being able to wield the sword, even if only halfway, as he had to use a shield when he refused to keep moving due to some cramp, was a long way off, so he knew he was getting better. Still, it wasn't enough.

Jaime gripped his shield tightly, ready to charge and break the bastard's teeth, even if it was headbutting, but the horn sounded at the castle gate, and both stopped the fight at the shouts of the watcher. Jaime thought he heard the word "army."

Jaime threw the training sword to a boy who served as his squire, trying to earn some of the few coins he had left, and picked up his sword to see what was happening.

Jaime ran to the entrance and the mock gate there. This castle had no defenses to the south, a very bad idea in Jaime's opinion, to whom an attack on his rear cost him his entire life. Luckily for his new sworn brothers, one horn meant allies, and this one hadn't sounded again, so they weren't enemies, if they were, there would be two horns.

Jaime climbed up to the gate to see who was approaching, but regretted it the moment he saw a huge gray direwolf running alongside a rider, in front of an army with banners from the North, about two hundred meters from the gate.

Jaime had to hold onto the battered gate wall with force, and he must have looked a mess because all the men around him were looking at him, and some even asked if he was okay.

"The Winter Wolf," Jaime whispered in terror, remembering the entire month he spent in its clutches, being tortured in the most despicable and vile way he had ever imagined.

Jaime didn't dare to move from his spot, even though someone had ordered him to come down and clean his shit-stained pants. Jaime didn't get angry. He could only feel pity and envy at the same time for these poor ignorant people who didn't know what true pain was, when it was the soul itself that was mercilessly shattered.

He kept clinging to the wall until, a few minutes later, he felt able to move again. To his surprise, when this happened, the army was already inside.

Well, a small part of it, its representatives. The eerie thing was talking to the chief steward, and Maester Aemon also approached to receive him.

The Winter Wolf hadn't changed much since the last time Jaime saw him, still sending the same shivers he felt over seven months ago, which he had managed to forget. But now they returned as if they had never left, leaving him out of control until he could overcome it again and get used to his old state of misery and fear.

Jaime looked at the Winter Wolf's companions, whom he already knew. They were his lords and his guard, who didn't leave his side for a second. The direwolf also stayed by his side. Even among allies, he didn't trust them with his life.

Jaime observed from the wall with no intention of approaching until the Winter Wolf gave orders, and a group of people was brought to him. Jaime recognized all of them; most were his brothers of the Kingsguard, and the others were Loras Tyrell, a square-faced brute…

"Damn, now I've really seen it all," Jaime thought because the brute's face wasn't so square, more oval, and despite her broken nose, her eyes and some things in her anatomy made it clear she was a woman.

Some black brothers, watching the newcomers who would be their brothers, also realized that among them was a woman.

Ser Alliser, rushing to lick the Winter Wolf's feet, also noticed the woman but ignored her and continued greeting and welcoming, while instructing to make space for supplies and arrange rooms for the army. He had taken over the commander's post.

Maester Aemon arrived shortly after, and Jaime couldn't help but notice that his assistant whispered to him after seeing the woman, but Maester Aemon didn't say anything and only gave orders to start unloading the supplies and taking inventory of them.

The army was still outside, and now a line of carts with provisions and weapons was entering. Donal Noye, the blacksmith, also arrived there to see the supplies and check if there was anything for the forge.

It took a whole day to unload the provisions and troops. Jaime helped on the periphery, and at night, he planned to retire when one of his new brothers told him he had to report to the dining hall, where a meeting was being arranged.

Jaime didn't want to go, but they hadn't asked him that, so he dragged his feet to the place and lingered around until enough people were there for him to go unnoticed.

Jaime clenched his teeth; luckily, he had already gotten used to this feeling of helplessness he felt when he was near this thing, or he would have been paralyzed again. Jaime went and sat without protesting; he was afraid this thing would speak to him again.

Jaime thought he had nothing left to lose, now that even his twin was dead, but he didn't want to risk it. Still, after sitting and seeing everyone looking at him with disdain, he felt indignant because if he was a coward, everyone there was the same as him, as there was a woman dressed in black, and no one said a word, not wanting to offend a guy with such a bad reputation.

"Lord Wolf, it seems my new brothers have forgotten to mention to you that the Night's Watch does not accept women," Jaime said, looking at all his brothers and returning their disdainful gaze.

"King Stannis thought this would be an exception, as a king had already made her a Kingsguard due to her merits in battle," replied the Winter Wolf without flinching.

"It is within the Lord Commander's power to accept or reject new recruits," added Maester Aemon.

"And it is within the king's power to cut off your Lord Commander's head if he does not obey his orders. However, we will have to wait and see what your Lord Commander decides if he manages to return from his expedition, a matter I intended to discuss at this meeting," said the Winter Wolf. Maester Aemon directed his blind eyes toward him.

"What do you mean?" asked Maester Aemon, forgetting about the woman, at the insinuation that the Lord Commander's life was in danger.

"Your Lord Commander should not have left the Wall; the White Walkers will not miss this opportunity to decimate their forces, even if they have few wights available," explained the Winter Wolf seriously.

His lords looked at him with anger, and an old man by his side spat on the ground and growled at the Winter Wolf to behave seriously.

"How did you find out about the wights and the White Walkers?" Maester Aemon asked.

"I brought an arm from a wight to King's Landing, but that little shit mocked me and sent me back," said Ser Alliser. The Northern lords stopped growling and looked at the Night's Watch with furrowed brows.

"The Southern lords are ignorant of everything that happens in this place; even my Northern lords came here thinking they would face an army of wildlings.

"I really didn't feel like trying to convince them that legendary creatures were assembling a nightmare army to invade the human realms," said the Winter Wolf, leaving his lords wide-eyed with shock, but he was unaffected. After responding to Ser Alliser, he looked at Maester Aemon.

"I have some friends beyond the Wall who are informed of the situation and with whom I maintain communication, but I don't have too much information because the White Walkers are very dangerous creatures, and spying on them without them noticing is not easy, and that, in itself, is a death sentence.

"However, an army of about eight hundred men from the Night's Watch will be easily ambushed by them, and there are signs that the wights are gathering for an attack on Fist of the First Men, where the Night's Watch and the Lord Commander are right now, chasing the wildlings. The enemy may fall upon them within a week to ten days," explained the Winter Wolf to Maester Aemon, who lowered his head in a thoughtful gesture. But his reflection was interrupted when Rickard Karstark pounded his hand on the table.

"Stop talking nonsense!" scolded Rickard Karstark in anger.

"Grandfather Karstark, my lords, calm down. I'm not asking you to believe in tales, just to stay here for a while. If you see any wights, then you can believe my words.

"If you don't see any, I'll be the happiest among all of us. Now be silent and let your lord speak with the Night's Watch," said the Winter Wolf in a cold and threatening tone, shutting up his lords. The direwolf stood up while he spoke and showed them his teeth in a fierce threat.

The Winter Wolf, seeing that everyone was silent, looked again to the side of the table where the Night's Watch was and nodded, indicating they could continue.

"The Lord Commander is not aware that there is an army of wights beyond the Wall. Those who attacked his offices were only two, a couple of corpses we brought from beyond the Wall. Apart from that, we know nothing about the wights, so the Lord Commander decided to go out to explore," explained the blacksmith, Donal Noye, and Ser Alliser nodded.

"Your Lord Commander is too old, and his disbelief has played against him because all the evidence he needed was already there. Firstly, the wildlings fleeing their villages. Not the fact of forming an army, but the action of leaving everything behind and gathering with few provisions."

"A scouting patrol killed by the White Walkers, a man escaping and claiming to have seen demons.

"Then, another missing patrol and a couple of wights, placed beside the path, which didn't move until they could ambush the Lord Commander.

"My friends, if you didn't suspect that there was something not to be underestimated beyond the Wall, it's because your Commander is already too old for this job, or too stubborn to understand that going beyond the Wall is suicide," concluded the Winter Wolf.

Jaime grimaced and looked at his Night's Watch brothers. If all these things had happened, there were indeed reasons to think they were in trouble, as two scouting patrols were no small matter, and they had already seen the wights.

"The Lord Commander marches with eight hundred well-armed men, and a spy among the wildlings, the old Craster, has let us know that the wildlings are preparing an army to attack the Wall, so the patrols could have died at their hands," said Ser Alliser.

"Craster takes his daughters as wives and offers his sons as tribute to the White Walkers. He is an enemy of the wildlings and knows nothing about them," said the Winter Wolf, shaking his head with regret.

The Northern lords spat on the ground. Jaime could only feel incredulous. If what the Winter Wolf said was true, the Night's Watch was heading straight into a trap.

"My Lord, I've heard that you can send ravens to specific people. Can you warn the Lord Commander of the danger he faces?" asked Maester Aemon calmly.

"I can, and I have. The raven should reach them in a day at the latest. However, I don't think your Lord Commander will listen to me, and if he does, the White Walkers might advance their attack to prevent them from escaping," explained the Winter Wolf.

"My lord, you brought an army of five thousand men…" the Winter Wolf raised his hand to interrupt Ser Alliser.

"This army is to protect the Wall, and it is still insufficient. I didn't come here to rescue your brothers or your Lord Commander but to take charge of this war, for the defense of humanity.

"I have much work to do in that regard, like repairing fortifications, garrisoning the Wall, and capturing some wights to send to the Southern lords and request reinforcements. I will also use them to show them to my own lords," explained the Winter Wolf.

"How do you plan to capture the wights?" asked Ser Alliser. "Earlier, you said that the ones we brought here only let themselves be captured," he added. The Winter Wolf nodded.

"The White Walkers can control them, and, in a way, see through their eyes. But they are usually scattered, killing animals or lost wildlings to increase their numbers.

"My friends have some tricks to prevent them from communicating with their masters when captured, so it will be safe to bring them here. But I will need at least one scout and ten volunteers to go beyond the Wall and capture a couple of wights for us," explained the Winter Wolf.

"Who are these friends who can prevent the wights from communicating with their masters?" asked Maester Aemon, as if his old eyes could see things that the Winter Wolf omitted.

"Old friends. There's no need to speak of them," said the Winter Wolf. Maester Aemon nodded without insisting further.

"My lord, is there truly nothing more you can do for ours?" asked Maester Aemon, with regret.

"Sending letters is all I can do. The rest will depend on the judgment of those who receive them," said the Winter Wolf, refusing for the second time to take his army beyond the Wall.

"Don't worry; my presence in this place can give them a chance to survive. Now, let's focus on our efforts for the war.

"I will need information about the fortifications, the number of available Night's Watch brothers, who can volunteer for the wight-capturing mission, among other things," concluded the Winter Wolf.

Author's Note: In the next chapter, we will see Jon's point of view, who is with the Free Folk.