CHAPTER 169

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CHAPTER 169

291 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

After Aermir left a terrified Catelyn in her room, he returned to Lord Stark's solar, where the atmosphere was heavy with tension. The room, adorned with Northern symbols and ancestral weapons, seemed to close in on them as they confronted the complex situation at hand.

It was evident that Ned was deeply troubled, and Aermir could discern his inner turmoil through Lord Stark's eyes. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room, mirroring the uncertainty in Ned's heart.

"We had a heart-to-heart with Lady Stark," Aermir began, his voice firm,  "and I believe I made it abundantly clear how much my familiars mean to me." He leaned slightly forward, his piercing gaze locked onto Ned's. "I want to be straightforward with you --- my lord. She won't get another chance if she makes another attempt on me, no matter how trivial it may seem."

Ned sat behind his massive wooden desk, his furrowed brows betraying his inner conflict. He had faced countless challenges in his role as the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, but this situation was unique and deeply personal. His duty as a husband clashed with his duty as a lord, and he couldn't ignore the growing gap between the two.

The room's walls seemed to echo with Aermir's words. It was a challenging predicament, and Ned found himself in uncharted territory. He was the paramount ruler of the North, descended from a line of kings, and yet he found himself making concessions to a man who had become a formidable force, thanks to his magical powers.

He wasn't entirely certain if Aermir still considered himself his man. Ned might have displayed bravado when declaring his readiness to fight, but that was before witnessing the full extent of Aermir's power. Aermir was not invincible, but he was nearly impossible to defeat. Even if they could overwhelm him, he could fly away and attack another day. The options available to Ned seemed limited.

Aermir, perceptive as ever, could sense Ned's internal struggle. He chose his words carefully, his tone sincere and measured.

"I may not always accept every order you give, but I want you to understand, as long as I draw breath, the paramount of the North will always bear the name Stark. I'm a man who believes in reciprocation, for better or worse. Good deeds earn my goodwill, and wrongs earn my disdain. While I may harbor no fondness for Catelyn and hold no respect for her, I do respect you. Yes, at times, I find your naivety stemming from your obsession to honor troubling in your role as paramount, but I still hold you in high regard as a man."

Aermir's words hung in the air, leaving Ned with a mixture of relief and confusion. Did he just receive an insult or a compliment? The lines were blurred, and Ned struggled to decipher the true intent behind Aermir's words.

Aermir, sensing Ned's uncertainty, continued, "If my words remain suspect, I am willing to make an unbreakable oath. I have no interest in your family's seat. What I see lies beyond your imagination."

Though Ned couldn't fully grasp the depth of Aermir's intentions, he had unwavering trust in the sincerity behind the statement. "No need for that," Ned responded, his voice laced with trust. "I have faith in your honesty."

With that settled, Aermir shifted the conversation to more pressing matters. "Now, let's discuss something of greater importance."

Ned inquired, "Such as?"

Aermir's gaze was resolute as he spoke of his plans. "The impending takeover of Moat Cailin, and the establishment of an information network within the North."

Ned, intrigued, leaned in. "You'll have to wait until you're eighteen namedays old in two years for the takeover. Until then, you must earn more renown in the North."

Aermir nodded in agreement. "That's my intention."

Ned, still curious about the proposed information network, asked, "But what do you mean by an information network? Haven't you mentioned using your familiars for information?"

"Yes, I can," Aermir replied, "but they're insufficient to cover the entire North. Moreover, I foresee a future where we'll need a broader network akin to the Master of Whispers. My lord, knowledge equates to power. Though we may appear as one united kingdom, we are not. The other regions can potentially become our adversaries."

Ned pondered Aermir's ambitious plan, recognizing its potential but also its challenges. "Is this not too ambitious for a recently titled noble? Didn't you decline a two-rank promotion to avoid drawing the ire of the other lords?"

Aermir explained, "Indeed, for a new noble, it would be ambitious. However, I won't be leading this network, and I require it for other purposes as well."

Understanding Aermir's perspective, Ned joined him, pouring a cup of wine, and sighed, and Aermir started to explain the complexities and opportunities that lay ahead.

...

Ned furrowed his brows, puzzled by Aermir's cryptic statements. He questioned, "You're going to employ your Druid persona? What do you mean by that? And why would you need it for something else?"

"In the North," Aermir began to explain, "there could be individuals with latent magical talents, but they might not realize their potential or how to harness it."

Ned shook his head, skeptical of Aermir's claim. "That's preposterous. If we had people with magical abilities, we would have heard about it by now."

Aermir countered, "No, you wouldn't have. If they are wargs, their abilities would manifest as exceptional hunting or animal-taming skills. You see, Lord Stark, you don't even know what transpires within your own household."

Ned's confusion deepened as he asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Aermir leaned in, his gaze unwavering. "All of your children are wargs, and you remain unaware of it."

Ned's incredulous response was immediate, causing him to spurt the wine he was drinking in shock. Aermir swiftly raised his hand, manipulating the wine in the air and forming a reddish, miniature orb a few inches in size. With practiced control, he released the spell, allowing the wine to descend gently to the ground.

Ned could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Are you suggesting that our direwolves aren't merely tamed animals?"

Aermir's response was unequivocal. "Indeed. Did you truly think you had domesticated five direwolves by raising them as pets? Have you never found it peculiar that these seemingly wild creatures behaved like loyal dogs?"

Ned was taken aback, recalling moments when Arya and Bran had spoken of dreams involving running through fields as wolves. "Arya and Bran did mention such dreams, but I dismissed them as mere fantasies."

Aermir clarified, "They were not fantasies. While they slept, two of your children were likely warging into their respective wolves, sharing a deep connection with them."

...

The day had proven to be a tumultuous one for Lord Stark, courtesy of Aermir. One shocking revelation followed another, leaving him feeling overwhelmed and somewhat dizzy from the sheer volume of information to process. Yet, amid all this, Aermir had yet to reveal the most crucial piece of information: the existence of the Night King.

Aermir carefully considered whether it was wise to divulge the knowledge of the Night King to Lord Stark. He harbored a deep suspicion that revealing the existence of this formidable foe would only serve to instill panic, and, in truth, Lord Stark would be helpless against such a malevolent force. Engaging in a battle against a necromancer with an army that they couldn't possibly overpower would be nothing short of suicide.

Aermir's calculations and estimates were grim. If his assumptions were correct, the Night King commanded an undead army numbering between 150,000 to 200,000 wights. To stand any chance against such overwhelming odds, they would need an army of at least 600,000 or more to secure victory, or at the very least, maintain a semblance of balance. Even then, the war would remain a grueling and relentless battle. The Night King possessed the ability to continuously resurrect his fallen soldiers, while their side would suffer irreplaceable losses.

It was abundantly clear that now was not the time to reveal the grim reality of the Night King and his army of the dead. The consequences of such a revelation could be catastrophic, and they needed a more comprehensive strategy in place before broaching this dire subject with the others. Aermir didnt have enough control over the lords yet. 

If his hunch was correct, as long as the Wall remained standing, the Night King and his formidable army were effectively imprisoned on the other side. However, the real issue lay with the wildlings. As long as the wildlings remained on the far side of the Wall, they could potentially be permanently recruited as soldiers for the Night King's army. Aermir needed to devise a plan to bring them to their side.

His to-do list was growing by the minute. Building a reliable force and establishing an effective network was paramount. Aermir also recognized the necessity of acquiring blacksmithing skills, enabling him to craft enchanted items. After much persuasion, Tobho Mott had agreed to teach him blacksmithing during their month-long journey to their current location. Reworking Valyrian steel swords was a specialty mastered by the blacksmiths of Qohor, and it was a skill Aermir was eager to acquire.