"Are you really in a hurry to leave?" Commander Mormont asked Tyrion.
His eyes were full of expectation; Tyrion was one of the few prominent Southern figures to have come this far.
"I can't wait, Lord Mormont," Tyrion replied, "Otherwise, my elder brother Jaime might worry something happened to me, and he might even think you'd try to persuade me to join the black-clad army?"
Tyrion enjoyed drinking with Mormont and the others; they showed him a great deal of respect. However, he couldn't stay here. lions don't have a custom of joining the Night's Watch, and besides, the cold and desolation of this place were apparent at a glance. Even if their family had many children, none would join the Night's Watch.
"It would be good if that were true." Mormont picked up a crab claw and cracked it open with his hand. Although the Commander-in-Chief was old, he still possessed the strength of a bear. "Tyrion, you have a good mind, and The Wall's defenders desperately need someone like you."
Tyrion chuckled, "Lord Mormont, for that compliment, I must find all the dwarves in the country and bring them to you." As everyone burst into laughter, he sucked the meat from the crab leg into his mouth, then took another. These crabs had been brought from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea that morning, still frozen in ice buckets when they arrived, because they were exceptionally fresh and juicy.
Tyrion looked around at the others. He wasn't always popular among the Night's Watch's high-ranking members. Night's Watch Instructor Ser Alliser Thorne, however, was different; he couldn't bring himself to smile at a Lannister. Alliser was about fifty, with a sturdy, lean, and stern build, his black hair streaked with grey, and his eyes shining like obsidian.
Tyrion knew the reason: this man had once been a knight of House Thorne in the Crownlands, fighting for the Targaryen family in the War of the Usurper. He was a defender of King's Landing, and after the city fell, Lord Tywin's terms were so harsh: either the black clothes or a head on a pike before nightfall. This past continued to pain Ser Alliser.
"I see that although you're not even half a man, you speak without restraint. Perhaps we should have a contest," Alliser's voice was filled with hatred.
"Why bother?" Tyrion said. "The crabs are all here."
Tyrion's sarcasm made Alliser leave the hall, fuming and not looking back. Tyrion understood that his sharp tongue had offended someone again, but it was harmless.
But the others were used to it, as Ser Alliser was always like this. His tone of voice and contemptuous manner annoyed the Night's Watch recruits. Many recruits even gave him numerous nicknames.
"Gentlemen, open your eyes," Tyrion reminded them. "Ser Thorne should be cleaning horse dung, not training recruits."
"The Night's Watch doesn't lack stable boys," the Commander-in-Chief said. "These days, we get rapists, thieves, or stable boys. Ser Alliser is one of the few formally knighted individuals to join the Night's Watch since I became Commander-in-Chief. He fought very bravely in the Battle of King's Landing."
"Too bad he picked the wrong side," Jeremy Rykker said coldly. He, too, shared a similar fate, a knight of The King's party in the Battle of King's Landing like Ser Alliser, eventually choosing to go North.
"I'm very sorry," Tyrion said to the Commander-in-Chief and the others. "Originally, a good lad was going to join the black-clad army, but I talked him out of it."
"You mean Jon, don't you? Lord Eddard's bastard," the Commander-in-Chief knew who he was referring to. He had also heard from Benjen about this young man from House Stark.
"Yes," Tyrion nodded. "The boy had made up his mind, but the distant war led Lord Eddard South, and he followed him to King's Landing."
"War," the Commander-in-Chief chewed on these two words. This war also concerned him; it was said that his son Jorah had found a new employer and become an officer Across the Narrow Sea.
Maester Aemon, sitting at the end of the long table, suddenly spoke, and the Night's Watch's high-ranking members fell silent, listening to the words of this most senior Old Man. "Lord Tyrion is not small at all; he is a giant among us, a giant who has come to the end of the world."
The blind Maester smiled faintly. He was a small, thin Old Man, his face covered in wrinkles, his head completely bald. After a century of heavy years, the links of his Maester's chain hung loosely around his throat.
Tyrion looked at the expressions of the Commander-in-Chief and Maester Aemon. Did they want to ask him for details about the war Across the Narrow Sea, the Targaryen orphan, and the Commander-in-Chief's son, all of whom were destined to fight to the death for the iron throne?
After dinner, as others gradually left, Commander Mormont invited The Imp to sit by the hearth and handed him a cup of warmed wine, so spicy it brought tears to his eyes.
The Commander-in-Chief had decided to assign three strong warriors to protect Tyrion's safety, and Tyrion was very grateful.
"Life here is getting harder and harder," the Commander-in-Chief sighed. "Young people can never forget their past lives, but once they come here, they have to let go of both brothers and mothers. I know these things very well. My family, ever since my son disgraced the family, and my sister took over rule, I have many nieces I've never even met."
"Your son?" Tyrion replied. "I heard he secured a new position and is doing quite well Across the Narrow Sea."
"Those things don't concern me much anymore," the Commander-in-Chief continued. "I had hoped he would also become a Night's Watch member, but he didn't. I have already sworn my oath and am powerless to control his actions."
Tyrion, however, found it hard to believe. Could these Night's Watch members truly let go of their affections?
"Then I am very sorry; I hope to repay your kindness." Tyrion felt that dwarves, like bastards, also needed to discern people's joys and sorrows. He naturally knew the Commander-in-Chief had a favor to ask.
"You certainly can," the Commander-in-Chief said bluntly. "Your sister is the Queen, your brother is a great knight, and your father is the most powerful man today. Please plead with them on our behalf, tell them how urgently we need aid. My Lord, you have seen it with your own eyes. The Night's Watch is slowly dwindling; our manpower is less than before. Six hundred guard here, two hundred at Shadow Tower, and even fewer at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Less than a third of these men are capable of fighting, and The Wall is three hundred miles long. If the enemy attacks, I can only assign three men to guard each mile."
Tyrion understood the implication: they wanted him to return and send some reinforcements.
"It's not easy right now," Tyrion spread his hands. "If you know the situation, you should know that a new war is about to begin, and young people will be the nation's wealth."
"That may be true, but I am out of options," the Commander-in-Chief sighed, warming himself by the hearth. "I sent Benjen to find Lord Yohn's youngest son, who went missing on his first patrol. Lord Yohn's youngest son is as tender as young grass, yet he demanded to lead the patrol himself, saying it was a knight's duty. I didn't want to offend his father, so I agreed. Even more foolishly, I sent two additional skilled men."
The Commander-in-Chief continued, recounting the fate of Lord Yohn's youngest son's three-person team: one deserter, two missing. The Commander-in-Chief spoke of the Night's Watch's current state; it was now nothing more than a disorganized rabble of unhappy young men and weary Old Man. Even people like Alliser and Bowen now had to shoulder great responsibilities.
"I promise to mention it to His Majesty the King; I promise to mention it to my father and my brother." Tyrion chose to listen patiently to the Old Man, understanding the urgency in his words.
But he felt that his words would not bring much support; he was merely comforting the Old Man in front of him. Cersei and he were not on good terms, the King would only think he was talking about Wights, and his father Tywin had no interest in matters of the North. Jaime would laugh heartily... "When I was a Child, I heard that a long summer is followed by an even longer winter. This summer has already lasted nine years, and soon it will be the tenth. Think about what that means."
Tyrion, however, wanted to laugh heartily. People said such a summer represented an eternal summer, indicating divine tempering.
Commander Mormont, however, began to grow serious. "The days are indeed getting shorter; this is absolutely true. The Maesters have received letters from The Citadel; summer is ending." Mormont reached out and tightly gripped Tyrion, letting him know the gravity of the situation. The dark times were coming, Direwolf, Mammoth, Snow Bear as big as buffalo, and even more terrifying things.
Tyrion felt these Wights were getting more and more outrageous: barbarian invasions and the arrival of White Walkers.
Tyrion ascended The Wall at dusk, gazing out at the distant North. The cold wind rushed around him, cutting like knives. Beyond The Wall, the height dropped, leaving only a dark wasteland. Forests could still be seen in the distance, the trees incredibly tall, and Tyrion also feared what Wights might emerge from the forest.
He stood alone at the end of the world, feeling he should perhaps call that fool, the bastard younger brother... In the Wolf's Den's smithy, hammers clanged incessantly.
Gendry was forging a breastplate, wearing his leather apron for smithing. He worked with great concentration; the whole world consisted only of metal, bellows, and furnace fire, and the Iron Hammer became a part of his arm.
Blacksmithing was what Gendry was best at. When he engaged in it, he always felt his muscle memory awaken.
However, Gendry didn't have time to forge every day. Blacksmithing and manufacturing products were now more like a pastime and a reward.
Daenerys stood not far away, watching Gendry beside her, seeing the movement of his pectoral muscles. He was making music with steel.
He is so strong, strong and handsome, Daenerys thought. Daenerys was a bit of a romantic, easily captivated by love when she was just starting out. Gendry was very handsome and doted on her, and Dany felt very happy.
Gendry immersed the breastplate into the tempering trough, and the armor made a cat-like sound.
"Looks good, doesn't it?" Gendry showed the breastplate to Daenerys. He had made it for her. For a male, it was naturally petite, but for Daenerys, it was just right.
"It looks good," Daenerys nodded. He is my pride, and sooner or later, I will become his pride, together with him.
"Don't you feel hot, Dany?" Gendry asked Daenerys.
"A little, but I can bear it," Daenerys replied. "A true dragon isn't afraid of fire, so they say."
"Silly girl, no one is truly unafraid of fire," Gendry smiled, pinching Daenerys's cheek.
Would Daenerys awaken fire? Gendry wasn't sure. He also wanted to awaken the fire within himself, but the opportunity seemed not yet to have arrived.
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