That massive white shadow stretching across the horizon looked like a sigh left by the Gods at the dawn of creation.
The Wall.
It stood there silently, cleaving the world in two.
On one side, the Seven Kingdoms—civilization, green lands, and summer.
On the other, the Land of Always Winter—wildlings, and the legends of the White Walkers who had vanished into the snows of history.
Arya's mouth hung open in a perfect 'O'.
The pale light reflected from the ice wall danced in her grey eyes. This was grander and more magnificent than any story Old Nan had ever told her.
Jon reigned in his horse.
He tilted his head back, staring blankly up at the sheer cliff of ice.
This was the place he would spend the rest of his life guarding.
The hesitation that had crept into his heart because of Yoren's ragged band of criminals seemed to be smoothed away by this magnificent miracle of ice and magic.
Tyrion Lannister stopped reading.
He squinted his mismatched eyes, scrutinizing the greatest structure ever built by human hands.
For the first time, his face showed pure, unadulterated awe, stripped of his usual cynicism.
Only Lynn remained calm.
He looked at the familiar silhouette.
The shock his predecessor felt upon seeing the Wall for the first time still lingered in the body's muscle memory.
But to the current Lynn, this wall was no longer the end of the world.
It was a new beginning.
The column moved slowly toward Castle Black.
The fortress built at the foot of the Wall looked tiny and crude compared to the majesty of the ice itself. The black timber and stone buildings looked like ugly patches against the pristine snow.
As they passed through the tunnel hewn into the ice—a long, dark wormwalk—a bone-chilling cold pressed in from all sides.
Hoofbeats echoed in the narrow space.
When the light returned, they were standing in the courtyard of Castle Black.
The yard was a muddy mess of churned snow and horse dung.
Dozens of brothers in black were going about their daily drills and chores.
Their arrival silenced the courtyard instantly.
Everyone froze.
Dozens of gazes shot toward them.
Not at Benjen Stark, the First Ranger.
Not at Arya, a rare sight of a female in this place.
Not even at Tyrion, with his conspicuous dwarf stature.
Their eyes bored past everyone else, locking dead onto one person.
Lynn.
The air began to thicken with a strange, hostile tension.
"It's him."
"The deserter."
"He actually dares to come back?"
The whispers buzzed like flies.
A tall, thin man with a sharp, mean face lowered his practice sword and walked over slowly.
Ser Alliser Thorne.
The Master-at-Arms of Castle Black.
His gaze stabbed at Lynn.
"A deserter, alive and well."
"Did Lord Stark not send you on your way?"
Thorne's voice was sharp and biting, filled with unconcealed malice.
"And Benjen, why have you brought Stark household guards?"
"What? Does Lord Eddard Stark intend for his lackeys to replace us men of the Night's Watch?"
Behind him, the faces of the other brothers twisted into sneers of ridicule and disdain.
In their eyes, Lynn was a disgrace.
A coward who had broken his vows and should have lost his head.
And now, this coward had returned alive.
Lynn didn't speak.
He simply sat calmly on his horse, looking down at Ser Alliser Thorne.
Behind him, the hundred elite Northern cavalrymen simultaneously rested their hands on their sword hilts.
These elites took orders only from Lynn.
That was Lord Stark's personal command.
Now that Lynn was being insulted, they were ready to draw steel.
A cold, murderous intent instantly flooded the yard.
The temperature seemed to drop even further.
Thorne's expression shifted slightly.
The rabble behind him instinctively took a step back.
"Enough, Alliser."
Benjen Stark rode forward, his voice low and commanding.
"Lynn returned with me."
"If you have a problem, take it up with the Lord Commander."
The authority of the First Ranger froze the sneer on Thorne's face.
He gave a cold snort and grudgingly stepped aside.
But those venomous eyes never left Lynn's back.
...
The Lord Commander's solar was simple and tidy.
A fire in the hearth chased away some of the chill.
"The Old Bear," Jeor Mormont, sat behind his desk, reviewing scrolls of parchment.
He had a mane of white hair and a thick beard to match. His weathered face was carved with the lines of many hard winters.
A raven perched on his shoulder. It cocked its head, eyeing the newcomers with beady black eyes.
"Benjen."
Lord Commander Mormont looked up, his voice rasping like old wine.
His gaze bypassed Benjen and landed squarely on Lynn.
The look was sharp and heavy.
"Why is he back?"
"Why isn't he dead on the chopping block at Winterfell?"
Benjen Stark recounted the events concisely.
From the White Walkers, the guidance of the Old Gods, Bran's fall, the assassination attempt in the library, to Ned Stark's request.
Lord Commander Mormont listened quietly.
The only sound in the room was the crackling of the logs in the hearth.
When Benjen finished, Mormont remained silent for a long time.
He stood up slowly, walked to the window, and looked out at the endless wall of ice.
"Ned wants him released from the Night's Watch?"
Mormont's voice betrayed no emotion.
"He saved the Stark children. This is the reward Ned believes he deserves," Benjen added.
"Reward?"
Mormont turned around.
"Benjen, you are a man of the Night's Watch, too."
"Have you forgotten our words?"
"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death."
"I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children."
"I shall wear no crowns and win no glory."
"I shall live and die at my post."
"I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls."
"I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men."
"I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."
Every word sounded as if it were chiseled from ice—cold and unyielding.
Benjen's face darkened slightly.
He knew the Old Bear was right.
The oath was the foundation of the Night's Watch. Once shaken, the entire order would crumble.
Getting Lynn out the back door wasn't going to be that easy.
"But, my Lord..."
"No buts."
Mormont cut him off.
He walked back to the desk and sat down.
"Lord Stark is the Hand of the King, but he is not the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
"He may be the Warden of the North, but here, my word is law."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy enough to crush a man.
Lynn stood there the whole time, not saying a word.
He knew the Old Bear was just marking his territory.
It was something he had to do.
Rules were rules. No one could trample on them openly.
But Ned Stark was, after all, the Warden of the North.
Mormont couldn't completely disregard Ned's face. Castle Black's supplies came mostly from the Seven Kingdoms, and Ned, being honorable and generous, always gave more than the other Wardens.
Lynn had a read on the situation.
Sure enough.
Mormont sighed.
There was a trace of helplessness and fatigue in the sound.
"However..."
He looked at Lynn, a complex glint flashing in his sharp eyes.
"Since Lord Stark values you so highly, keeping you on the Wall might indeed be a waste of talent."
Mormont's fingers tapped lightly on the table.
"Let's do this."
"You remain a sworn brother of the Night's Watch. Your oath still binds you."
"But your post... is not at the Wall."
"Isn't Lord Stark heading to King's Landing?"
"You will follow him."
"But remember, you are still a crow. A Watchman."
"This way, you do not break your vows, and I... repay Lord Stark's favor."
Relief washed over Benjen's face.
It was a perfect compromise.
Lynn lowered his gaze, hiding the sharp gleam in his eyes.
He knew.
This Old Bear was far shrewder than he appeared.
This wasn't just a compromise.
It was throwing the "controversy" of Lynn right back into Ned Stark's hands.
nominally, he was still a Watchman.
But in reality, he was free.
"As you command, Lord Commander."
Lynn bowed slightly.
Mormont spoke again.
"However, I agree that the attitude of the other brothers is important."
"After all, I do not rule alone."
"You'll have to find a way to convince them yourself."