Mole Town #67

In Mole Town, nestled within Brandon's Gift, just south of the Wall, Benjen Stark observed Gale's emergence from the brothel, his expression a blend of amusement and irritation. 

Leaning casually against a nearby wall, Benjen raised a quizzical eyebrow at the sight of Gale, who had two scantily clad women clinging to his arms. Noticing the first ranger's gaze, Gale grinned and whispered a few parting words in the two women's ears before heading toward him. 

"Was that really necessary?" Benjen inquired, his tone a mixture of exasperation and annoyance.

Gale let out a chuckle in response. "Not entirely, but the look on the Lord Commander's face when he asked if I needed anything and I mentioned visiting a brothel... That alone was worth it," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eye. "The fair company was a pleasant addition," Gale added, gesturing toward the departing figures of the women who had previously clung to his arms.

"Besides, I've been either brooding, studying, training, or fighting for life since you found me... I needed a bit of levity," Gale concluded with a casual shrug, acknowledging the necessity of a brief respite from the rigors of life at the Wall and beyond it.

In the quaint village's narrow streets, Benjen regarded Gale with an amused shake of his head. "You haven't taken the oath yet-- so I won't hold this against you. But it's time to head back," he stated firmly.

Gale's grin widened. "And miss out on the night? No chance. I won't leave this village until I'm thoroughly drowned in drink," he declared with a chuckle. "I think I spotted an ale house nearby. Edd and the new recruits should be there..."

With a wry smile, Benjen relented, knowing the futility of trying to dissuade Gale when he set his mind on something, and the young man had earned a bit of fun. 

"Fine. Drink yourself to stupor, if you will, lad," Benjen said with a sigh as he followed behind Gale. "I'll take you back to Castle Black if it comes to that..." 

Standing atop Castle Black's immense wall, Jon Snow peered out over the vast expanse of snowy wasteland, his gaze a mixture of contemplation and weariness. The harsh winds whipped at his cloak, carrying the echoes of solitude that seemed to permeate the frigid air.

A sigh escaped Jon's lips, a testament to the weight he carried on his shoulders. He had sought refuge within the Night's Watch, yearning to forge his own path and escape the defining legacy of being a Stark bastard. Yet, as time passed, the bitter truth unfolded before him.

The stigma of his birth, the mark of being a bastard, persisted in haunting him within the frozen confines of Castle Black. His role as the Lord Commander's steward didn't bring camaraderie among the ranks; instead, it alienated him further, painting a target on his back among those who held resentment toward highborns.

The reality of the Night's Watch was starkly different from Jon's idealistic vision. Instead of an organization filled with noble and virtuous men, it comprised criminals of varying degrees—rapists, murderers, thieves—and remnants of nobility who had faced disgrace or loss and were cast off to the Wall.

Despite this disillusionment, Jon found a glimmer of hope in the looming threat beyond the Wall. The impending danger posed by the unknown and terrifying enemies beyond could perhaps serve as a catalyst for change within the Night's Watch. 

It was an opportunity for the brotherhood to reclaim its honor, to become what Jon had dreamed it could be—a bastion of honor, defending the realms of men.

Amidst the desolation of the North, amidst the bleakness of his own circumstances, Jon held onto the belief that this might be his chance to rise above the shadows of his past, to carve out his own legacy, and to find his true purpose.

Amidst the solitude atop the icy Wall, Jon was pulled from his reverie by the distinct sound of footsteps approaching. Turning, he found the Lord Commander walking towards him, his demeanor serene against the stark landscape.

"A number of the new recruits have ventured to Mole's Town. You didn't join them, Jon?" The Lord Commander's voice, tinged with a hint of amusement, resonated in the frozen air as he joined Jon in surveying the snowy expanse.

"They did invite you, didn't they?" He continued, a knowing smile gracing his weathered face. Jon regarded the Lord Commander with a perplexed expression. "They did invite me, but I'm somewhat perplexed..." Jon began, furrowing his brow. "You were aware of the new recruits heading to Mole's Town? Doesn't that contradict our oath?" He questioned.

A soft chuckle emanated from the Lord Commander. "If we beheaded every boy who rode for Mole's Town at night, our ranks would be naught but phantoms haunting the Wall," he mused. "The life of a man of the Night's Watch is bleak enough. If a sip of drink and a bit of fair company provide respite, who am I to deny them?" he remarked, his voice filled with weathered wisdom.

Jon nodded thoughtfully. "When you frame it in that light, I see the sense in it... It's just that..." Jon hesitated, unsure how to articulate his reservations. 

The Lord Commander finished Jon's thought, understanding his unspoken concerns.

"That you expected the Watch to enforce more discipline and adherence to the rules?" the Lord Commander finished with a hearty chuckle, his eyes glinting with understanding. Jon nodded in acknowledgment.

"Not all oaths and pledges are worth enforcing nor keeping, lad," the Lord Commander's voice echoed with a hint of solemnity, cutting through the frigid air. "So long as my rangers remain steadfast and ready to fight for the peace of Westeros and the safety of its people, then they can do as they damn well please..." He paused, emphasizing the point.

Jon nodded, absorbing the gravity of the statement. 

"The world is not black and white. Honor and purpose can be found within the lowliest of thieves, and the most virtuous knights will surely disgrace themselves once or twice..." The Lord Commander's words lingered, imparting a wisdom that transcended the realm of the Night's Watch.

"Remember those words, for they will serve you well in the days to come," the Lord Commander's parting remark carried warmth and assurance. 

With a final smile, he turned and strode away, leaving Jon to contemplate the depths of his guidance amidst the frigid northern winds. 

...

Slowly stirring from his slumber, Gale winced, his forehead throbbing with a pounding headache—the remnants of last night's revelry. As consciousness returned, he found himself amidst an armory, weapons of various sorts gleaming in the dim light. 

The realization only worsened his headache, memories of the prior evening flooding back—how he joined Edd and the new recruits for drinks in Mole's Town, how Benjen's unexpected appearance stirred unease among the recruits who refrained from drinking in the First Ranger's presence. 

And finally how Gale managed to cajole Benjen into joining the merry-making, much to everyone's relief.

Amused by the recollection, Gale chuckled softly, musing about how Benjen, a seasoned ranger, succumbed to the peer pressure of a group of youngsters, who weren't even his peers. 

The night blurred thereafter, an amalgam of ale, songs, and joyous revelry that eventually culminated in Gale waking up on the hard floor of Castle Black's armory.

"Gods above... never again," Gale muttered grimly, massaging his aching head, regretting his participation in the revelry.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew Gale's attention, and he turned to see Edd entering the armory. Edd's expression, a mix of confusion and amusement, greeted Gale's sight.

"After the festivity last night, I never expected you to rise so early. Seems like someone's eager for the upcoming ranging," Edd remarked, a grin playing on his lips. "Up at the crack of dawn, preparing your gear..." he added, clearly teasing.

Gale scoffed in response. "Eager? More like confused. I've just woken up right here on the bloody floor, right before you entered," he grumbled, shaking his head at the situation. "Ugh... my fucking head..." 

Edd stared at him blankly for a moment, the words sinking in before he suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over at the unexpected revelation.