8 The Lord Commander #8
The Lord Commander's room was sparsely lit, with sunlight and a few candles casting dim illumination. The chamber lacked grandeur or extravagance, featuring plain wooden furniture, including the desk and chairs.
Seated behind the desk, Lord Commander Mormont sported a grizzled beard and hair, his pale skin contrasting with the room's darkness as he perused messages.
A knock at the door diverted his attention, prompting him to call for entry. Benjen and Gale stepped inside, both offering respectful gestures. Benjen clenched his fist to his chest, and Gale mirrored the gesture silently.
"Lord Commander," Benjen greeted.
"There you are, Benjen," the Lord Commander replied with a warm smile. "I was starting to worry that you'd finally met your match beyond the Wall..."
"I almost did," Benjen confessed. "The other two didn't make it, but it seems fate had other plans for me."
The Lord Commander let out a thoughtful sigh as he leaned back in his chair. "A shame, but I'm glad you made it back," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "Sit. Tell me of your mission," He gestured for them to take seats, his gaze shifting to Gale.
"Would I be right to assume the young man has something to do with it?" he inquired, his eyes fixed on Gale, who remained standing by the door while Benjen sat.
"You would be, yes," Benjen replied with a nod. He leaned forward in his seat, ready to recount their mission. "I didn't encounter any wights or White Walkers... I almost dismissed the reports as wildling superstition until I met this young man." He turned to gesture toward Gale.
The Lord Commander's curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward, his expression scrutinizing Gale. "And what made you change your mind, exactly?" he asked, searching for the reason behind Benjen's unusual reaction to the young man.
Benjen paused at those words, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and figure out how to voice them without making a fool of himself. He needed to convey the gravity of the situation without sounding deranged or delusional.
Taking a deep breath, he began, "I have reasons to believe this young man is connected to the White Walkers somehow, Lord Commander." His words hung in the air, and the Lord Commander's frown deepened.
"I've seen him turn two wildlings into ice sculptures with my own eyes," Benjen continued, not waiting for further prompting.
"What happened exactly?" the Lord Commander pressed, his tone serious. "Tell me everything. Don't spare any detail." He added, his confusion growing by the second.
With a nod, Benjen launched into a detailed account of their journey, from the moment he first encountered Gale fending off a bear with mysterious magic to their encounter with the Thenn raiding party.
He spared no detail, recounting each event, from the eerie calm that overcame Gale to the chilling transformation of their enemies into ice sculptures.
The Lord Commander listened attentively, his expression shifting from skepticism to deep concern as he absorbed the extraordinary tale.
"His eyes were blue, glowing, and his skin was as pale as the snow-- then he just crumbled to the ground and slowly reverted to normal," Benjen concluded, intently watching Jeor Mormont's expression.
"If someone else had brought such news to me, I would either assume they were delusional, or faking it to escape duty," the Lord Commander said, his hand rubbing his forehead in frustration. He seemed on the verge of dismissing the matter altogether.
"Why I'd... no, never mind," he added, trailing off mid-sentence as he turned his attention to Gale. "And you... young man, would you care to add anything?" he inquired.
Gale, who had been listening attentively without interjecting, cleared his throat before responding. "Afraid not, Lord Commander. I am as clueless about my situation as Ser Stark," he replied honestly. "All I know is that I possess a unique gift, one which I wish to use for my own good and the good of others," he added.
"The good of yourself, and of others... in that particular order?" the Lord Commander raised an eyebrow, probing Gale's motives.
Without hesitation, Gale affirmed, "Yes, ser." He made no excuses or offered any elaborate explanations.
In the brutal world of Westeros, there were many dangers, and one wrong step could mean difference between life and death. Gale was determined to thrive in such an unforgiving environment before thinking of anyone or anything else.
"Ironically, that makes you more honorable than most folk," the Lord Commander said, his shoulders slumping slightly. He regarded Gale with a pensive expression. "Tell me, first ranger, what do you suggest we do?" he asked, shifting his gaze back to Benjen.
"I'm also at a loss, Lord Commander. It is why I brought him to you," Benjen replied, shaking his head. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the Lord Commander's desk. "However... his appearance at a time when we've suddenly started hearing reports of the undead is no coincidence," he continued, his tone reflecting the gravity of the situation.
"Whether he'll be our greatest ally or enemy is the only question worth asking here," he concluded, and both he and the Lord Commander turned to look at Gale.
Gale offered a bitter smile and shook his head. "Even if you ask me that... I really don't have the faintest clue how to answer," he admitted with a tone of genuine uncertainty.
The enigma of his strange powers and their connection to the rising threats beyond the Wall was as perplexing to him as it was to the men of the Night's Watch.
The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of the situation settled upon them. Both Benjen and the Lord Commander delved deep into their own thoughts, grappling with the enormity of the unknown threat that loomed beyond the Wall.
Breaking the silence with a weary sigh, the Lord Commander finally spoke, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and determination. "I suppose we'll just have to find out, won't we?" He acknowledged, his gaze shifting between Benjen and Gale.
"I ought to have you killed and spare myself many future headaches, but I'm not so cold-hearted..." He shook his head, his expression softening, much to Gale's palpable relief.
"Until we make sense of the situation, you are to stay here—right under my sight in Castle Black," the Lord Commander declared, his tone unwavering.
"In the meantime, Benjen will teach you our ways, and hopefully, you won't make me regret my decision," he concluded, his words hanging in the air, a tentative step into an uncertain future for them all.
"I will do my best not to disappoint you, Lord Commander," Gale responded with a determined tone, much to Lord Mormont's bemusement. The young man's sincerity in the face of such a perplexing situation was an unexpected twist.
The Lord Commander chuckled softly, shaking his head as he marveled at Gale's forthrightness. "Refusing to let an old man's mind rest easy with a simple white lie... youngsters these days," he mused, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"In any case, what we discussed here today is to stay here. No one must know of it under any circumstances," Lord Mormont instructed, his tone now serious and commanding. "Now leave me to my thoughts... I have much to consider," he concluded, gesturing for Benjen and Gale to take their leave.
The two of them nodded in acknowledgment and turned to exit the Lord Commander's chamber, leaving him to contemplate the enigma that had walked through Castle Black's gates.
The two nodded and departed without saying anything else. As they exited the room, the Lord Commander turned to the other entrance, which promptly opened to admit an aged man with whitehair, dressed in a black maester's robe.
The maester entered cautiously, every step slow and deliberate, as if considering the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Well, what do you think, Maester Aemon?" the Lord Commander asked, his voice carrying a sense of knowing that the old maester had been listening all along.
Maester Aemon, with wisdom etched into the lines on his face, shook his head slightly. "They told no lies. Neither the young man nor Benjen," he said, his voice filled with a certainty that came from years of experience.
"As to whether they were delusional... well, they didn't sound like lunatics either," he added, his words chosen with care.
The Lord Commander sighed, the burden of leadership weighing heavily on his shoulders. He leaned wearily into his seat, exhaustion evident in his posture.
"You're the wisest man I know, Aemon... tell me, what must I do?" he asked, his voice laced with fatigue and uncertainty.
"Were I to sit where you are sitting," Maester Aemon replied with a soft smile, "I would make the same decision."
The Lord Commander nodded, finding solace in the maester's words, yet still burdened by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. "I suppose only time will tell if it was the right one," he mused, his gaze fixed on a future filled with uncertainty and potential danger.
...
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