CHAPTER 285 The Stark's Dilemma

297 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Elric said, "Your stories were too tall for us to believe. We know you are powerful, but it feels like you are trying to keep us away from the sight where the Old Gods displayed their power. Are you trying to keep that power to yourself?"

Sigrid couldn't believe what this old coot was saying. Did he not witness this man's power? She froze on her feet and waited for the worst-case scenario, but rather than that, she heard loud, hearty laughter.

"HAHAHA! That is always the same with humans. As a warg, you are already blessed by the Old Gods with their power. But rather than being grateful for that, you are greedy for more. Old Gods only bless the worthy ones with the power of a druid. I will talk to the Night's Watchmen and their Commander Mormont. I will make them accept a compromise so you can visit the weirwood tree on the Fist of the First Men as an unarmed pilgrimage and see if a druid's powers would bless you."

Aermir imbued his voice with more mana and continued. His voice reverberated like thunder, "But! Let me save you for days of suspense. None of you deserve that power. You are lucky Old Gods do not take the powers they already bestow, or none of you even deserve to be a warg; they want you to find the right path by yourselves."

Aermir created a growing ring of fire to push them back and display more power. As Aermir's ring of fire expanded, engulfing the area in a blaze of intense heat, those at the front started to run back, and those at the back watched in awe and trepidation. Sigrid, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and reverence, as she decided before departing from the hidden basin.

Ragnor and Elric exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the futility of their situation. They understood the power difference with Aermir, and even if the Druid didn't help the Night's Watch. They knew they could not hope to challenge the Night's Watchmen alone. Reluctantly, they turned away from the basin and returned to their village.

...

As Rob, Bran, and Ned Stark arrived at Castle Black for their inspection, they were met with a sight that spoke of a different kind of transformation. The courtyard was bustling with activity, but the atmosphere carried a weight of depression for most men.

Ned had been briefed on the recent influx of exiles from the Vale, men who had taken the black under Aermir's decree. These were not volunteers but men who had been forced into service as a punishment.

Yet, despite their circumstances in the months they were here most of them had accepted their fate. Of course, there were some who deserted their oath, but they were all caught eventually by the patrolling templars and put to death right outside of Castle Black. As they approached the castle, both sides of the road leading to the castle were covered with tens of impaled heads.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

The air was heavy, fearing what would happen if they deserted. Ned could see some familiar faces once in a while. They were all lords, powerful men, but they made the mistake of crossing Aermir, and now their houses were in ruin, their male bloodline was cut, and their houses were under full control of Aermir and his men.

As they made their way through the castle, Ned couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for these men. Yet, he also recognized the importance of their role in defending the realm against the growing darkness beyond. Commander Joer Mormont came out of the keep and greeted them.

As Commander Mormont greeted them, his demeanor was weary, his weathered face a testament to the challenges he faced in leading the Night's Watch in this cold climate, but you could clearly see in his eyes how proud he was to serve in the Watch.

Mormont greeted with a nod, "Welcome to Castle Black. It's been some time since we last had a visit from Winterfell."

Ned returned the nod with a faint smile as they grabbed each other arm in a shake. "Thank you, Commander Mormont. It's good to see Castle Black standing strong. How are you, you old bear?"

At first, he smiled at Ned's jest; he felt nostalgic; it had been years since he was called that. Then Mormont's expression turned grave as he glanced around the bustling courtyard. "We do what we can, but the threats beyond the Wall grow ever more pressing. We've been stretched thin, and every man here knows that the time may come when we're called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice against the Wildlings. We hear a man is calling himself King-Beyond-The Wall."

Then Commander Mormont told Ned about the pillar of light they saw and informed him how it was related to the Druid Emrys. As of now, they have been waiting for his arrival since he left word at the outpost in Fist of the First Men.

Ned's gaze followed Mormont's, his thoughts drifting to Jon and Benjen. "Speaking of which, I had hoped to speak with my son Jon and my brother Benjen. Are they here?"

Joer shook his head, "They are on a ranging mission beyond the Wall and if everything goes according to plan they will be back in 2 months."

Joer could see Ned looked thoughtful. So he said, "Benjen is a seasoned ranger, Ned. He will keep them safe." Ned nodded in understanding, though a flicker of concern remained in his eyes. "Of course," he said quietly. "I trust in their abilities. Still, if there's anything they need upon their return, you have my support."

Mormont inclined his head gratefully. "Your offer is appreciated, Lord Stark. The Night's Watch is always in need of allies in these uncertain times."

Upon hearing Aermir was going to come here, Ned decided to stay until he returned. Ned's decision to remain at Castle Black until Aermir's arrival was driven not only by duty as the lord of the North but also by an intense curiosity about the events that had unfolded beyond the Wall. While he was familiar with Aermir's identity as the Druid of the Old Gods, it was the magical spectacle witnessed from afar that intrigued him.

Listening to the people's account, they were not able to shake the memory of the vibrant green light that had illuminated the night sky, casting an otherworldly glow over the frozen landscape. It was a sight that defied explanation, one that hinted at powers and forces far beyond their understanding.

As he was standing on top of the Wall, Ned turned his sight toward the Gift. Ned pondered the implications of the magical phenomenon. What had caused it? And what did it mean for the realm, for the Night's Watch, and for his own family? These questions swirled in his mind, driving his curiosity to new heights.

Ned's brow furrowed with concern as he contemplated the state of affairs in his realm. As the Warden of the North, it was his duty to safeguard his people's interests and maintain the region's stability. Despite Aermir's pledge to uphold the Stark lineage in the North, Ned found himself grappling with a sense of unease. He could not afford to remain passive while another wielded such influence over his domain.

It never felt good to share power, but Ned was never a person who chased power. The only reason he wanted to hold onto it was that he didn't want to be the Stark who lost it all. Aermir had grown in his house, and even though Ned could never rein him in, Ned knew he at least had Aermir's ear. At least, that is what he hoped.