Chapter 372

As Daenerys descended from the high platform, her leather boots echoed across the cold stone floor, each step bringing her closer to the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. Standing behind Aegor, Melisandre couldn’t suppress a deep inhale. Even up until the very moment she entered the hall, she had been utterly convinced that Aegor was Azor Ahai. Yet now, even someone as obstinate as her felt her faith waver.

Being of the same gender and without any attraction to women, the Red Priestess was naturally immune to Daenerys’s physical allure. Yet it did nothing to shield her from the overwhelming energy radiating from the Mother of Dragons. This power was neither mere magic nor simply charisma—it was a strange and undeniable majesty, emanating from every pore of Daenerys’s being, saturating the air around her. The closer she got, the more intense and suffocating it became.

Was this the power of prophecy?

The rhythmic "click, click, click" of her boots finally stopped a mere meter away from Aegor. Though Daenerys was a full head shorter, forcing her to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, the dynamic was entirely reversed when it came to presence. Perhaps she didn’t fully understand the source of the aura she projected, but she wielded it masterfully. Closing the distance between them to just a fraction of what it had been amplified both her allure and the pressure she exuded by orders of magnitude.

If his words could bypass his mind, Aegor might have already agreed to her request. If his legs moved of their own accord, he might already be kneeling in submission. And if certain other parts of his body had their way…

Staring at her close, soft, unadorned lips, Aegor swallowed hard. After holding her gaze for a moment, he confirmed one thing: Daenerys was indeed beautiful, but not to an inhuman degree. Then another realization struck him—this young queen was extraordinarily bold. He hadn’t been searched when entering Dragonstone, and a small knife was still tucked into the side of his boot. If he simply drew the blade and struck now… Stannis’s throne would be secured in an instant.

The thought of assassinating Daenerys played out vividly in his mind, and as the tension drained from his overburdened nerves, Aegor found himself relaxing slightly. At least the queen understood the art of negotiation—her demand wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

To publicly declare Daenerys the sole legitimate ruler of the Seven Kingdoms was far less binding than swearing loyalty and fighting in her name. The Night’s Watch would only need to issue a statement, without committing a single man or sword to her cause, in exchange for her promise not to attack their industrial compound.

On the surface, it seemed like a fair trade. In reality, it was untenable. Neutrality wasn’t just a principle for the Night’s Watch; it was their very foundation, both ideologically and strategically. To acknowledge Daenerys would be to denounce Stannis as an illegitimate usurper. Even if Aegor could suppress dissent within the Watch, such a statement would immediately plunge them into conflict with the Baratheon faction.

The Night’s Watch wasn’t an isolated force; their lands were bound to the North, and the two were currently working hand-in-hand to prepare for the White Walker threat. Sacrificing this alliance for the sake of a single compound and a bit of saltpeter would be a disastrous trade.

Before Aegor could finish his internal debate, Daenerys added, "I understand your concerns. I’ll allow you to return to the Wall and stabilize the situation before issuing the statement. Moreover, I’ll ensure that before Stannis declares you a traitor and sends troops to attack your compound, my armies will have already encircled King’s Landing, trapping his forces within the city."

"Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty," Aegor replied with a strained expression. "But such a statement would violate the Night’s Watch’s principle of neutrality. And… Your Majesty, whether or not you are the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, is that really for us watchers of the Wall to judge?"

The queen frowned.

"I don’t care about your principles," Daenerys said sharply. "I’m offering a trade—what you want, for what I want. As for your judgment, don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need the Night’s Watch to legitimize my rule. My legitimacy comes from my bloodline and my dragons. But the realm is watching, and I need someone with weight and credibility to set an example, to stir the stagnant waters. Whether that person is from House Martell, House Tyrell, or the Night’s Watch, I don’t care. Whoever comes to me first will be the one I choose. Does that make it clear, Lord Commander?"

It was crystal clear. Few people understood this better than Aegor.

Due to her upbringing, Daenerys was naturally a person who dismissed rules and tradition. This was precisely why she had always been Aegor’s top choice in his long-term plans. Young Aegon was an unknown entity, and convincing House Stark to rebel was impossible. Stannis, rigid and inflexible, would never tolerate Aegor’s ambitions or allow him to shed his black cloak. Only Daenerys, a queen still in the process of conquering her realm, might value capability and loyalty over heritage or vows.

When the war against the White Walkers ended in humanity’s favor, Aegor had no intention of spending his life guarding the Wall like so many of his predecessors. He would need a way out, and Daenerys Targaryen, returning to Westeros to reclaim her throne, was the perfect opportunity.

Aligning with Daenerys had always been the centerpiece of Aegor’s grand strategy. His recruitment efforts, stockpiling of resources, training of disciplined officers, and development of advanced weaponry—all ostensibly to prepare for the White Walkers—were also quietly laying the groundwork for his eventual entry onto the stage of Westerosi politics.

Daenerys’s demands were bold but not unreasonable, and they played directly into Aegor’s plans.

But all of this depended on one crucial condition: the war against the White Walkers had to end in victory for humanity. If even the best-laid plans unfolded at the wrong time, they could spell disaster.

"Understood..." Aegor finally said, though his predicament remained dire. He knew Daenerys would never comprehend or accept the nuanced dilemma he faced. If someone approached her and said, "Grant me what I ask now, and I’ll serve you after I handle my current troubles," would she believe them? Aegor certainly wouldn’t.

"But if I make such a statement," Aegor continued, "it will shatter the alliance between the Watch and the North. The defensive line along the Wall will collapse—"

"The North’s support is meager," Daenerys interrupted, her tone growing impatient. "I can offer double. Once I take King’s Landing and depose the usurper, I’ll send reinforcements to the Wall. If the army of the dead and the White Walkers you describe are real, I’ll even bring my dragons north. Is that satisfactory, Lord Commander?"

The offer was not only generous but excessively so. Yet it was impossible for Aegor to accept. Even if Daenerys successfully took King’s Landing, mustering troops and sailing north would take months—far too late to address the immediate threat.

Why had things come to this? Aegor furrowed his brow, finally understanding why this entire conversation had felt off. He hadn’t come here to ask Daenerys for help at the Wall. His plan had been to present her with 'Sovereign' as a token of respect, then request her cooperation in sparing the Night’s Watch compound during her campaign. The book, incomplete as it was, would serve as both a gift and a pretext for future interactions, laying the groundwork for his ultimate escape from the Gift.

All he needed was for Daenerys to agree—or even just to let him leave Dragonstone. If she refused, he could still return to King’s Landing and find another way to protect his operations. But from the start, Daenerys had misinterpreted his intentions, jumping ahead with a proposal that far exceeded anything he’d asked for. Aegor had never planned to negotiate with her—what was there to negotiate?

The stalemate wasn’t the result of malice on either side; it stemmed from a negotiation that never should have begun. Daenerys’s offer to march north with her dragons in exchange for a declaration of legitimacy was sincere and generous, yet the Night’s Watch didn’t need her help.

Daenerys’s misplaced goodwill had forced Aegor into an awkward position, rejecting a proposal that, on the surface, seemed perfectly reasonable. And only now, after the queen’s overwhelming presence had clouded his mind for so long, did he realize what had happened.

But why had Daenerys shown such inexplicable goodwill and expectation toward him in the first place? Aegor’s gaze swept the room, eventually landing on a red-robed figure standing in the corner—a colleague of Melisandre, judging by the look of him.

Could this be another mess caused by a fanatic?

"Your Grace!" Petyr Baelish broke the silence first, his voice urgent. "After taking King’s Landing, your priority should be consolidating the Crownlands and securing recognition from the rest of the realm. The Wall has stood for thousands of years; it can wait a little longer!"

Daenerys ignored Littlefinger’s outburst. Aegor’s endless hesitation and overthinking had exhausted her patience. Feeling both embarrassed and frustrated, she turned sharply on her heel and headed back toward her throne, her voice cold as she threw out her parting words: "Lord Commander, you’ve come a long way by sea. You must be tired. Enjoy Dragonstone’s hospitality and rest for the night. I expect your answer by morning."