Chapter 40: RoWE - Chapter 40
Chapter 40: The New Lord of Winterfell
The hall, once cramped and narrow during the King's feast, now appeared spacious with the removal of many tables and benches. As Aeg followed the guard into the room, he observed the gathering of people within.
A row of guards stood solemnly by the wall, while Robb Stark, flanked by Maester Luwin and his mother, occupied the high seat that had once belonged to his father. The young wolf, caught in the middle, bore the weight of lordship on his inexperienced shoulders, his demeanor already mimicking that of a true lord.
The questions Aeg had posed to the maid before breakfast now seemed futile. Lady Stark, seated at the front, appeared aged beyond her years, her haggard appearance reminiscent of the older version from the TV series, looking only a few years younger than the venerable maester beside her. Yet, it was undoubtedly her.
Catelyn's absence from King's Landing meant she had not encountered Littlefinger nor been deceived about the dagger's origins. This realization eased Aeg's concerns about aiding Tyrion in avoiding a confrontation with her on their journey south.
In the center of the hall stood the other Night's Watch recruits, alongside Tyrion and his guards. As Aeg joined Yoren and the other men clad in black, the young lord in the host's seat addressed them.
"Welcome," Robb began, his voice carrying the air of a host, though the speech lacked the polish of experience. "I was occupied with city affairs last night and couldn't greet you personally. Please forgive any lack of hospitality."
Tyrion sighed, dismissing the formalities. "When will your brother arrive?"
As if on cue, heavy footsteps heralded the entrance of a colossal figure—Hodor, carrying Bran.
"So, the boy truly survived," Tyrion remarked, craning his neck to look up at Bran, who was even higher in Hodor's arms. "I must say, you Starks are resilient."
"Northerners must be tough to endure," Robb replied, his tone lacking the hostility Aeg expected. "Hodor, bring my brother here."
"Hodor," the giant beamed, jogging forward to place Bran next to the Stark family's high seat. Generations of Stark rulers had sat in these chairs, and Bran, gripping the armrests, looked diminutive in the grand seat, his crippled legs swinging in the air.
"Lord Tyrion, you wished to see my brother. Here he is," Robb announced.
Tyrion studied the boy for a moment before speaking. "Bran, I've heard you're quite the climber. Tell me, how did you fall that day?"
Aeg's skin prickled with tension. Under Jaime's threat, he had fabricated the story of the incident. If Bran were to reveal Jaime's involvement or Aeg's own part in the disturbance, it would spell trouble.
Bran's response brought relief. "I don't know. I couldn't have fallen."
"The boy has no memory of the fall or his climbing before it," Maester Luwin interjected softly.
"How peculiar," Tyrion mused.
"Sir, Bran's body is still very weak. He needs to rest," Lady Stark said, her exhaustion rendering even politeness a challenge. "If there's nothing important, let him return to his chambers."
"I have a gift for him," Tyrion nodded to Lady Stark and turned to Bran. "Do you like riding horses, lad?"
Maester Luwin sighed. "Sir, the boy cannot use his legs. He cannot ride."
"Damn it," Tyrion muttered. "With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."
"I'm not a cripple!" Bran protested.
"Then I'm not a dwarf either," Tyrion smirked. "My father would be delighted to hear that."
Robb and Catelyn's displeasure was evident, while Theon Greyjoy laughed heartily. Only Maester Luwin, with a blank expression, inquired patiently, "What kind of horse and saddle do you mean?"
"A clever horse. Since Bran can't guide the mount with his legs, the horse must adapt to him. Teach it the significance of the reins and to recognize its master's voice. I suggest a yearling, untrained, so you can start from scratch without undoing previous lessons." Tyrion produced a rolled-up piece of paper from his belt. "Give this to your saddler."
Maester Luwin accepted the paper from Tyrion with the curiosity of a little gray squirrel and perused it.
"I see. You've drawn it quite clearly, my lord. Yes, this should work. I should have thought of it sooner," the maester admitted.
Aeg stood among the Night's Watch, silently observing the familiar yet divergent plot, yearning for the proceedings to conclude swiftly. His sole desire was for their journey south to unfold without further unforeseen events, from its inception to their destination.
"Can I really ride a horse?" Bran inquired, his eyes wide with hope.
"Without a doubt," Tyrion replied with conviction. "And I assure you, lad, on horseback, you'll stand as tall as any man."
"Thank you for your kindness, my lord," Catelyn managed a smile, mirroring her son's joy. "If it pleases you, for lunch and dinner, we—"
"No need for formalities, Lady Stark," Tyrion interjected with a bow. "However, I've had my fill of the North's fare for the time being. I'd prefer to immerse myself in the local customs at the inn in Wintertown." He shifted his gaze to the Night's Watch members. "Aeg, Yoren, we depart at dawn. You'll find me on the road."
With that, Tyrion strode out, his entourage in tow.
Twelve Night's Watchmen remained, along with a full dozen rangers accompanying the Lannister. Tyrion's return to Winterfell was devoid of peril, thanks to the presence of so many Night's Watchmen, the hall retained a sense of fullness. Robb hesitated before addressing them, "Brothers of the Night's Watch, you are always welcome in Winterfell. Should you require anything, simply inform the servants, and we will accommodate you to the best of our ability. Moreover, I would be honored if you would join us for dinner this evening."
His speech was even more halting, yet the Night's Watch took no offense. After expressing their gratitude for his hospitality, they too exited the hall, led by a ranger squad leader.
"Aeg?" A guard halted the time traveler as he trailed behind Yoren and the others. "The Lord wishes to speak with you. Please, come with me."
He wants to speak with me! Aeg's heart clenched. About what? Was it his lie regarding Bran's fall that had been discovered, or the fabrication about Joffrey's alleged assassination attempt on Bran that had been exposed?
Guilt washed over Aeg, rendering him anxious. His intentions had been pure, yet reasoning with these noble lords was futile. Either revelation would utterly derail his plans!
Yet, standing in Winterfell, he was powerless to act. The familiar sense of helplessness enveloped him as he apprehensively followed the guard back to a small room north of the hall. Inside, there was a single table, two chairs, and Robb Stark awaiting him.
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