The inner and outer walls of Crown Town combined were only one-fortieth the size of King's Landing. From above, the entire town was visible at a glance. As Daenerys flew over on her dragon, she noticed light smoke rising from the capital of The Gift, standing in the center of the snowfield. Not only had the color darkened, but the area also seemed to have expanded.
As she flew closer to observe, the source of these changes quickly became clear.
The neat residential areas, once arranged in rows and appearing gray and white from the snow-covered rooftops, were now scorched black. Though the fires had long been extinguished, wisps of white smoke still rose from the ruins, as if she herself had burned them the night before while sleepwalking with her three dragons. The scene outside the walls was even more shocking. The once-pristine white snow was now filthy and disturbed, marred by countless footprints and drag marks. Dozens of scattered piles, initially resembling coal, emitted fire and smoke, while large numbers of workers continually fed them. As she descended, Daenerys was startled to discover that these burning piles were not coal at all, but heaps of various remains. The people entering and leaving the town were not throwing in firewood, but corpses.
There were human and animal corpses, some whole, others torn apart, and even giants, whose remains had to be transported by carts with the combined effort of many. In the rush to chase down the White Walkers who had fled, and with concerns that these newly dead might rise again as wights, alongside the urgent need to rescue the wounded, salvage supplies, and begin rebuilding, Crown Town had no time to conduct any solemn funeral rites. Unlike after a glorious victory, there could be no grand cremation ceremony. They could only separate the dead by friend and foe, burn the corpses in piles, and bury the ashes of their fallen comrades just outside the walls. A cemetery for the martyrs would be established later.
The dozens of burning piles already held the remains of tens of thousands, and more were still being brought out from the town's main gates. What kind of battle had occurred here to produce more corpses in the two days since her departure than in all the wars she had seen in her life?
What Daenerys didn't know was that only a few thousand of these tens of thousands were killed by the defenders. The rest had fallen to dragonglass explosive projectiles. Looking down at Crown Town, where she had stayed only two nights before, now transformed into a post-catastrophe wasteland, she felt uneasy and conflicted. She was shocked by the strength of the Night's Watch, and glad that the living had seemingly prevailed. Yet, even more than that, a wave of unease surged through her. Had she arrived too late? Had her journey been in vain? Had she missed the agreement she made with Aegor, and lost the chance to recruit the man foretold to be her greatest ally?
After circling the battlefield, Daenerys noticed troops gathering outside the eastern gate of Crown Town. Assuming the man she sought was likely among them, she guided Drogon downward. As the Black Dragon descended in a swirl of wind, she spotted a clearing beside Aegor and landed steadily.
The soldiers and civilians of Crown Town, seeing the dragon again, showed no fear this time. Instead, they gazed at it and the Queen with anticipation and curiosity, restrained only by discipline from rushing forward. Aegor sheathed his sword and hurried toward her with his guards, reaching her side just as she dismounted.
"Your Grace, for you to come here immediately despite the great distance, on behalf of all the Night's Watch and the people of The Gift, I offer you our heartfelt thanks."
"You're too kind, Commander. I must apologize for my untimely departure the day before yesterday. I left just before a battle, when I could have stayed." Daenerys nodded slightly, her tone reserved, but the commander's barely contained excitement reassured her. "I hope I haven't arrived too late?"
"No, Your Grace, you've come at just the right time." Even though he already suspected the enemy had chosen to strike when the dragon left, Aegor would never say so. "The soldiers and people of The Wall and Crown Town joined forces and repelled several attacks by the White Walkers and the dead. Now, the remaining enemies, knowing they cannot defeat the Night's Watch, are bypassing The Gift and heading straight for the unprotected North. I am about to personally lead troops in pursuit. This southward expedition was originally incredibly risky, but with you and your three dragons, victory is now certain."
"That's good to hear... I mean, I'm glad I wasn't too late." Daenerys breathed a silent sigh of relief, concealing her expression. She was about to say, what are we waiting for, let's go, when her heart stirred. She hesitated and decided to be cautious. "Commander, our agreement from before. Does it still stand?"
"It does." Aegor answered without hesitation. He had once believed that the defenses of The Gift, which he had meticulously built, were unbreakable, and that he could defeat the White Walkers even without the help of the dragons. He had reached out to Daenerys only because he wished to go beyond The Gift. But the ferocity of the enemy's assault had proven him wrong. Now he had to admit, he truly needed Daenerys's dragons to ensure victory. "Your Grace rides your dragon to fight for the Night's Watch. We, in return, will fight for you and help restore you to the Iron Throne."
Subjectively, Daenerys wanted to trust the man before her, believing that once she helped him win this battle, he would keep his promise. But a life full of hardship and betrayal made her hesitate. After a moment of reflection, she suddenly realized that all her talks and agreements with Aegor had taken place in private, without witnesses or written contracts. If she risked herself and her dragons to aid him and he later reneged, what means did she have to force him to honor the deal, aside from dragonfire?
If she could not make this man her ally, he would become her greatest threat.
But asking Aegor to sign a written agreement now would be foolish and awkward. It would offer little reassurance. After a brief pause, Daenerys made a bold decision. "I believe in you, Commander. But since you say our agreement still stands, and I have come as promised, if I were to ask you to fulfill part of your promise now—by kneeling and swearing loyalty to me publicly, here and now—would that be too much?"
His body tensed, and a wave of instinctive resistance rose within Aegor.
The Queen's request, especially at such a moment, felt opportunistic. It triggered a strong reaction from the part of him that still remembered his former life.
Before he came to this world, Aegor had been a modern man, and like most, saw kneeling—outside of worship or marriage proposals—as humiliating, superstitious, and a symbol of servility. Even after four years in Westeros, he had never willingly knelt to any living person. How could he now kneel to a woman from another world, one who neither raised him nor was older than him, and who was even ten years younger?
But reason quickly overcame his instinct.
In this world, where feudal hierarchies still ruled and gods might actually exist, Daenerys's request wasn't meant to humiliate him. It was a reasonable, even cautious, move. Without witnesses or a formal pact, she needed something tangible to bind him. A public oath would increase the cost of breaking the agreement. If he betrayed her afterward, the backlash and moral condemnation would be immense.
The Queen simply wanted to tie him to her cause, with no way out.
It was clever, but poorly timed. Among the witnesses were thousands of Free Folk who scorned kneeling, Beric Dondarrion, who remained loyal to Stannis, soldiers of the North, and minor nobles from Dragonstone and the Crownlands who had come with Melisandre. If he knelt now, he might win Daenerys's trust, but it would cause trouble with many others.
Still, even though he understood all of this, Aegor knew he couldn't explain it to Daenerys. Even a few seconds of hesitation might look like guilt. These were his problems, not hers. As her new vassal, it was his duty to solve them. And she had deliberately chosen this time and place so as many people as possible would witness the oath and spread the word.
Two seconds after her demand, Aegor, who had only seemed to pause briefly, straightened his expression.
Daenerys's move had caught him off guard, but that was life. Plans never survived the battlefield. Hesitating wouldn't change anything.
He nodded, motioning to his guards to quiet the soldiers who were still whispering about the Queen and her dragon. Then he drew his sword once more, and slowly, without hesitation, knelt on one knee and laid the blade across his thigh.
"In the name of all the gods, old and new, in this world, I, Aegor West, swear fealty to Your Grace," he said, lowering his head, speaking slowly but steadily, suppressing the reluctance in his voice. "I swear to protect your life and honor. I swear to fight for your rightful claim. I swear to uphold your noble ideals, until death."
Daenerys had accepted many vows of loyalty before, but none had brought her such relief and joy. She knew this might make Aegor resent her, but her instincts told her this man, and the forces of the Night's Watch and The Gift behind him, were worth it.
As for any strain this demand may have placed on their relationship, she would mend it later.
Pleased, she stepped forward, placed a hand on his shoulder to show trust and importance, and improvised a return vow.
"I swear in the name of Queen Daenerys Targaryen the First that you shall always have a place at my court, at my table, and in my council. I will always listen to your counsel, value your advice, and never fail your talent and loyal service."
(To be continued.)
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