Chapter 446

Aegor didn’t send the champion of the archery competition or the two high-ranking Red Priests to deal with the wight dragon because he had an equally critical mission: ensuring the queen’s safety.

The famed marksman Angai, known as the “Sharpshooter,” lived up to his reputation. From dozens of meters away, outside Drogon’s accidental damage range and with only flickering firelight to guide him, he effortlessly shot down the wights crawling up Drogon’s back to threaten Daenerys. Every dragonglass arrow he loosed hit its mark without grazing a single dragon scale. For threats in blind spots, the two Red Priests stepped in, using magic to eliminate the danger at some cost. Working together, they neutralized the threats seamlessly.

With the arrival of the Gift army, their morale bolstered by the dragons’ intervention and the Others’ focus drawn entirely to the sky, the latecomers to the battlefield found themselves at a decisive advantage. They broke through the enemy lines before Aegor even had a chance to lead by example. Meanwhile, the team assigned to eliminate the wight dragon completed their task, destroying the newly designated leader among the Others and bringing an end to this bloody invasion orchestrated by the Cold God. By the time the Gift army, two dragons in the air and one reassembled Northern force in tow, had nearly wiped out the remaining wights, the spectacle of “thousands of wights collapsing in unison” seen during the Night King’s death had not been repeated.

Despite the lack of a dramatic and unmistakable moment of triumph, Melisandre and Makoro assured Aegor that all the Others had been destroyed. Additionally, no reports from the battlefield suggested any enemies had escaped. The war against the Others seemed, at the very least, to be over for now.
----


As “Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch,” Aegor’s mission was complete. But as the ruler of the Gift and the leader of Westeros’s tenth-most powerful faction, his journey was just beginning. Just moments ago, the North had been his most reliable ally and steadfast supporter. With the war won, he now had to prepare for the possibility of betrayal.

After dispatching messengers to confirm with Bran Stark that no Others had escaped, Aegor immediately executed his prearranged plan: even before the battlefield was fully cleared, he ordered several elite ranger teams into the forests to the east and west under the pretense of hunting down fleeing enemies.

“A second invasion of the Others, repelled in just five days”—such a description might make the war sound far less dangerous than it truly was. In reality, the past four days and five nights had seen intense battles, staggering casualties, and an exhausting toll on supplies. The ferocity and twists of these clashes were no less harrowing than any of Westeros’s long, drawn-out wars. For various reasons, Aegor was in no rush to declare victory. These ranger teams would serve as the perfect smokescreen:

The elite scouts would leave under the eyes of many witnesses, make a show of searching the forests, then deliberately delay their return to report to the command center at Queenscrown. They would deliver fabricated news that “enemies had fled north.”

Aegor would immediately “respond” to this report by ordering forces from Icemark and along the Wall to attempt to intercept the nonexistent enemy, ensuring no threat remained south of the Wall. When the frontline forces inevitably returned empty-handed, the Night’s Watch could then officially declare that the remnants of the enemy had retreated beyond the Wall, likely regrouping for a future assault.

This would allow the Gift to remain in a state of war and justify continued Northern cooperation. On the surface, relations would remain amicable for the time being, but in truth, as the Northern lords plotted to eliminate Aegor and the Gift once the threat of the Others was completely eradicated, the Gift would be rapidly preparing its forces to march south and enter the power struggles of the Seven Kingdoms.
----


“Take stock of the casualties as quickly as possible. Separate our dead from the wights and burn them on the spot. Leave the ashes where they fall—this battlefield will serve as the future site of the ‘Battle of Long Lake.’ The remains buried here and the scars of the battle will stand as evidence to future generations that the Night’s Watch and the North once fought a war for humanity’s survival.”

Even after the battle had ended, the wounded Drogon remained restless. To avoid being accidentally harmed, Aegor stayed outside the dragon’s range while issuing post-battle orders.

Preserving the battlefield wasn’t about vanity or seeking credit. Nor was it purely a political calculation. It was rooted in a belief Aegor had always upheld: doing good without expecting recognition was noble, but doing good without letting people know was foolish.

The soldiers and civilians of the Gift had fought and bled for this battle, even if not all of them had done so willingly or with noble intentions. Their sacrifices had protected all of humanity, and they deserved to be remembered.
----


After a brief rest, a small pursuit force armed to the teeth marched toward the Wolfwood. Drogon, still injured and agitated, eventually calmed after a bout of roaring and thrashing. With Makoro and a few guards in tow, Aegor cautiously approached from the dragon’s visible side, just in time to see Daenerys shakily dismounting.
----


Numb in her limbs, dizzy, and disoriented, the world spun before her eyes. As a dragonrider, Daenerys hadn’t personally killed a single wight in this battle, but it was her command that ensured the dragons’ flames didn’t burn the Northern army to cinders.

Even so, the hero of this war was far from unscathed. Drogon’s hard landing after being wounded, though cushioned by snow and from a height of less than a hundred feet, had been rough enough to count as a crash. Surrounded and harried by wights, the dragon had to prioritize survival and protecting its rider over anything resembling a smooth or comfortable ride. For Daenerys, the ordeal felt like enduring half an hour of violent stormy seas on a lone raft.

She nearly slid off Drogon’s back, barely managing to stand before clutching the dragon and vomiting. Seeing her pale and haggard state, Aegor ignored the dragon’s potential aggression and rushed to her side, steadying her as he helped her toward the gathered crowd.

“Your Grace, with your valiant contribution in the battle, we have achieved victory! Would you prefer to rest in the carriage, or—”

“Viserion… he was hit by something and fell… take me to him!” she demanded.

“As you command, Your Grace.”

Without further hesitation, the group escorted their queen to where Viserion’s body lay, while Aegor discreetly sent ahead messengers to ensure she wouldn’t see her “child” riddled with arrows.
----


“Viserion? Viserion!”

Daenerys knelt by the fallen white dragon’s head, her voice trembling with grief as she called its name. Aegor stood silently nearby, watching over her without speaking. The queen’s premature entry into the battle had disrupted the Gift army’s plans, but it had also prevented the Others from breaking through the Northern defenses and escaping southward.

One dragon dead, two injured—this outcome had spared the commanders and extraordinary individuals of the living side from bearing the brunt of the Others’ attacks. Without Daenerys’s intervention, Aegor, Melisandre, Makoro, and Bran Stark—one Night’s Watch commander and three supernatural enemies of the Cold God—would have been primary targets for the Others. A dragon could endure repeated assaults; mortal flesh could not.

After letting the Dragon Queen mourn for a while, a messenger arrived to inform Aegor that Robb Stark, Warden of the North, was requesting an audience. Feeling the timing was right, Aegor sighed, stepped forward, and spoke gently to Daenerys:

“Your Grace, Viserion gave his life to protect your people, dying a noble death. The Night’s Watch and the people of the North will never forget his majestic presence in the skies. But you must take care of yourself. The journey to shatter the wheel is far from over, and the road ahead is long. Please, allow me to escort you to the carriage to rest.”

Daenerys wiped away her tears and turned her head, unwilling to appear overly vulnerable in front of her loyal new vassal. “See that his body is guarded. I won’t allow a single scale to be disturbed. Once Drogon recovers, I’ll use dragonfire to cremate him.”

“As you command.” Aegor nodded, knowing Viserion’s remains posed no threat once confirmed by the Red Priests. “For now, Warden Stark has summoned me. With your permission, I’ll meet him to explain the situation and discuss the North’s cooperation in allowing the Night’s Watch to march south.”

“Robb Stark? Eddard Stark’s son?”

“Yes.”

Normally, Daenerys might have insisted on attending the meeting herself, ready to emulate Aegon the Conqueror by forcing the North’s submission with dragons. But with Viserion dead, Drogon grounded, and the timing unfavorable, she decided to place her trust in Aegor, who had knelt before her days earlier in full view of thousands.

“Go. If you can persuade Stark to avoid bloodshed, all the better. If not, don’t force it. We’ll think of something else once Drogon and Rhaegal are healed.”