Relying on overwhelming intelligence to manipulate his opponents like pieces on a game board, effortlessly crushing the Seven Kingdoms, becoming the Queen's most trusted subordinate and the man behind the Khaleesi. Controlling the rightful rulers of Westeros through subtle manipulation and, in the end, establishing a new True Dragon dynasty under his command...
Countless fantasies of a brilliant future surged into Aegor's mind, almost drowning out every other thought. But in that moment, whether it was an illusion or not, he seemed to faintly feel the scale embedded beneath his chest heat up slightly. Instantly, the flood of wishful thoughts was pushed to the back of his mind, and clarity returned.
What was that? Does this dragon scale have a built-in function to dispel distracting thoughts? It's helpful, sure, but isn't that a little too intrusive?
Aegor was puzzled, but now clearly wasn't the time to think about it. He quickly adjusted his breathing to conceal his excitement. After a short pause, he decided to err on the side of caution.
"Thank you for being willing to assist me, but I have yet to receive any related instructions from Lady R'hllor. So, allow me to ask again, just to be certain. Did She ask you to help me?"
Aegor asked directly, casually referencing his audience with R'hllor in order to reinforce the truth of his claim and dissuade the Greenseer from lying.
If the goddess had indeed instructed Bran to aid him, then such a powerful helper would be a gift from above, needing no further concern. However, what made Aegor suspicious was how out-of-step the situation seemed.
After all, when R'hllor chose him as Her Spokesperson, not only had She informed him through dreams and explained the reasoning behind it, but She had also used fire prophecy to notify Her followers to "obey his command." By preparing both sides, She eliminated the risk of miscommunication, ensured smooth cooperation between superior and subordinate, and removed any possibility of her chosen representative being sidelined or doubted by the faithful.
As a goddess worshipped for thousands of years, She had demonstrated an attention to detail and reliability fitting for Her age. If She had arranged for the Greenseer to assist him as well, why hadn't She said anything in the dream? Had time been too short and She simply forgot, or had She not arranged it at all?
"Lady R'hllor did not give such an order. This is my own suggestion, offered out of admiration and respect," the Greenseer answered truthfully, not daring to lie, confirming Aegor's suspicion. "You need only give your consent, my Lord, and all of my abilities will be at your disposal, without any need for compensation."
No reward? Who is he trying to fool? Anyone with basic sense understands that when someone says they want "no reward," it usually means they want everything.
Aegor snorted coldly and maintained a stern expression.
"What admirable devotion, Greenseer. But I have a question I'd like you to answer. What were you thinking and feeling when you told Jon the truth about his identity not long ago?"
No one can predict everything. That boy Jon, after learning of his true heritage, actually came to Aegor to discuss what to do next. Even the all-seeing Greenseer hadn't expected that. He could influence outcomes with subtle suggestions, but in the end, he couldn't force people to act against their own nature or desires.
The unpredictability of human behavior remains a problem no supernatural being can avoid.
Bran sighed, shook his head, and calmly admitted his failure without changing his expression.
"That was a mistake. A reckless action made by the part of my soul that still belongs to Bran Stark, out of love for my brother. If this matter caused you trouble or concern, allow me to apologize on 'my' behalf."
A clever and flawless response. He had admitted his mistake openly and smoothly resolved Aegor's pointed question with a single phrase. Aegor was deeply displeased, but quickly accepted reality. He was dealing with a being who was, in essence, semi-immortal, one who possessed vast life experience and an almost inhuman depth of knowledge. Trying to catch him off guard or force him into a corner through basic questioning had always been wishful thinking.
Schemes and tricks would never work on a creature like this. Realizing this, Aegor quickly abandoned any further pointless probing and prepared to move on to something meaningful. He wanted to understand the Greenseer's true intentions. If his demands weren't excessive, then regardless of their past friction, some level of cooperation could still be reached.
What is it you really want? Just say it plainly. If I believe you, I'll agree.
That was what Aegor intended to say. But just as he began to organize his thoughts, subtly modifying the question to avoid sounding too direct, a different idea flashed through his mind.
A reasonable and mutually beneficial negotiation is certainly one way. It's the method a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch or the political leader of a faction would choose. But right now, in this room, in front of the Greenseer and the Red Priestess, he had another identity.
He was the chosen one of the Lord of Light, R'hllor's Spokesperson on earth.
Knowing that the force behind him was powerful and awe-inspiring, yet still trying to approach the matter through friendly, equal communication based on his old habits, would that not be lowering himself? Wouldn't it come across as weakness? Not only would it waste the advantage he held, it might even expose him.
"Save your talk of 'respect and admiration.' You're hiding something from me," Aegor threw out all his original ideas, raised his posture to the highest point, and improvised, leveraging his new identity as R'hllor's representative. He stared directly at Bran, determination in his eyes. "I don't want to trouble Lady R'hllor with minor matters, so you had better tell me exactly what you're hiding. Leave out no details. If I detect even the slightest discrepancy, I'll bring it up the next time I speak with the Lord of Light."
It was a full bluff, completely baseless. No clues. No proof. Just performance.
As Commander of the Gift, Aegor had pulled this tactic before, but this was the first time he dared to use it against a supernatural being like the Greenseer. Something he never would have considered in the past, yet now, he was taking that risk.
He didn't even know what he was bluffing about. He had no way to truly "bother Lady R'hllor." His next meeting with Her was merely theoretical. But he had to act like it was real. The Greenseer had a psychological and memory age spanning centuries or more. He had probably eaten more salt than Aegor had eaten bread. If Aegor could shake loose even a single secret from this ancient being, whether relevant to him or not, it would push his understanding of the true nature of this world to another level.
As expected, in the face of such blunt pressure, the young and seemingly fragile Bran Stark showed no response for a while. His innocent and confused look was so believable that it almost made Aegor feel like he was the one being unreasonable, blind to good intentions.
But he suppressed that feeling. He kept his gaze cold and unwavering. After half a minute of oppressive silence, the pressure began to show.
The Greenseer let out a long breath. As if making a significant decision, he turned his head to look at the third person in the room.
"I request that your follower leave. What I am about to say should be heard by only one person."
"No. She stays," Aegor refused without hesitation. Since he had already forced the Greenseer into conceding once with R'hllor's name, it was the perfect moment to press harder.
"Melisandre, everything the Greenseer is about to say is to be known only by the three of us. You are not to speak of it to anyone else. That is an order."
The Red Priestess, who had been watching the heretic closely the entire time, turned and gave a soft nod.
"As you wish."
So the room remained with three people. Bran's request denied, his face still blank, though his usual stillness had clearly begun to shift. The muscles under his skin twitched, and faint ripples of expression began to surface. Then, for the first time since returning from Beyond the Wall, his perpetually indifferent face showed something different.
Centered between his brows, a clearly visible fury began to spread.
What, did I push him too far? Is he going to lash out?
Seeing the anger slowly building across Bran's face, Aegor instinctively prepared to dodge, bracing for a sudden attack. Melisandre, who had been tense all along, immediately summoned power within and around her, ready to strike down the heretic and protect the chosen one.
But no violent confrontation came. The rage on Bran Stark's face, so unnatural for someone his age, was not aimed at Aegor.
With clenched teeth and trembling lips, he let out a voice filled with repressed anger.
"Thousands of years, after thousands of years, and still I wait. I just want Lady R'hllor to give me a clear answer. When will this damned thing finally..."
(To be continued.)
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