A/N: This chapter is pretty short, but I'm going to make the next one longer. Thank you to all those who reviewed, faved, and followed! I hope some of your questions were answered in this chapter. I'm going to reveal a little bit of Aza in every chapter.
"Shit!"
Her entire hand began to lock up, making her clutch her wrist as she hunched over, pressing it close to her chest in all her efforts to soothe the pain. Squeezing her eyes shut, Aza let out a few agonized-filled hisses and tried to block out the shooting pain by thinking of situations that were leagues worse than this that she endured. She thought of things that were so much worse that she was practically left begging for the Stranger's sweet kiss, not realizing that she was stronger than the blows she had once been given. So what was a simple hand cramp compared to that? It was not even as bad as the cramps she suffered during each month from her moon's blood.
Curling her fingers that were throbbing with their own set of pain, the mercenary pulled her hand away to feast her eyes on how raw and red her palm and fingers were. She had been on her knees, which were sore and aching as well, for practically hours upon hours. Unfortunately, Aza had no one to blame for this except herself. With her tongue lashing out in the fashion of a leather whip and her lack of much needed self-restraint, her vicious mouth her put her on cleaning duty relentlessly.
Alliser Thorne, Master-at-Arms of the Night's Watch she sooner learned, had been giving her every bit of hell since she first arrived. Their meeting cemented the relationship they now have and for a split second, she wondered if she had been more obedient then would have things been different? Would he still be as cruel to her? A large part of Aza doubted that. She wasn't the only one who suffered his torment, but by the grace of the gods did she feel like she was his favorite to torture.
It came to a point that before he could take a step into the same room she resided in, his whole presence became known to her in an instant. This aura he would radiate would make her frown in a matter of seconds, dampen whatever joy she felt, and her hands would clench into tight fists, ready to swing themselves at him. By the time he reached to stand before the mercenary, he had to do something that would rile her. He made it his mission to do so.
One of his favorite things to do was lift his heavy, black boot-covered feet and purposely kick over her bucket of snow-laced, sudsy water. Thorne would laugh afterwards, grin from ear-to-ear at her as he did it. He liked to see her reaction and say a few taunts to add more wood to her anger's fire. Other times, he made sure his boots were covered in sloshy, filthy mud and walk around the room, making her have to scrub the floors all over again when she was nearly finished. Instead of taking it all in stride and realizing that he wanted her to lash out, she folded. She played right into his hand and got herself in trouble all over again.
Even now, she was forced to clean the floors of the common hall because it took three men to hold her down as she tried to throw the wooden bucket at the Master-at-Arms' head. Another week to scrub the floors, he said to her, but she wasn't the only one stuck in this shift. There was a bunch, this unfortunate lot, and most of them had gotten on Thorne's rather rotten side already, too. Was there even a good side to Ser Alliser? She thought not and she damned it if it truly existed. Nobody had ever spoken or seen it. In fact, the crew often joked with one another in whispers that he was certainly a thorn in their ass.
"When are you ever gonna stop bein' on cleaning duty, Az?" Rowan, a recruit that entered the same time as she did, came by with a brush and bucket in his hands. His blue eyes immediately followed towards her cramped hand before he shook his head full of black hair. "You know you're at fault for that. I don't think they'll ever let you touch a sword again if you keep on talkin' back."
Az or Yearling, she was hardly called by her whole name these days. The Lord Commander's assessment of her became a nickname and stuck with her face, making all the senior members call her that as well. The other recruits that arrived the same time as she did, who she deemed acquaintances at most, called her Az. She hadn't minded it, seeing as arguing and fighting wouldn't change anything.
"I know what I said and I know what I did…" Setting her jaw, she shrugged her shoulders, trying to play off that she was unbothered even though she clearly was. "I won't take none of it back either." Stubborn as always, but she couldn't help it. Her anger and her inability to cave into anything was what kept her alive for so long. "I'd rather clean for the rest of my life than fight and die for the likes of 'em," Aza spat her answer, lips curled at the corner in a sneer as she rolled her hand. The mercenary was trying to crack all the stiff bones so she could start cleaning again before Ser Alliser saw her and deemed her to be slacking.
"What's the difference, really?" he inquired, causing her to peer at him from the corner of her eyes. Rowan was cleaning atop of the tables that were messy from the day's meals because some men couldn't let the food go into their mouths like proper humans. They always seemed to drop and spill what they ate and drink like a bunch of slobs or wild animals to put it clearly. Half of her thought it to be on purpose too because they knew they wouldn't be the ones to clean it all up. "We all die."
Scoffing, Aza rolled her brown eyes. "The difference is that I'd rather die because that's what I want," she put it simply. "I want the choice to be my own, not some Commander I didn't wish to serve in the first place. What do I look like dying for that old fool? And for what? Because of some fucking Wildlings? They don't give a shit about me and I don't give a shit about them. Let 'em come over, under or through the damn Wall! I just don't care."
"You just don't get it, do you? They're a bunch of savages. If they come South of the Wall, they'll kill people; innocent or no. They'll try to take over, they will." What did it have to do with her still? Nobody could seem to answer that for her. All she could do was look at him, blankly, showing that all of what he said made no solid difference to her. Sighing, Rowan shook his head, completely giving up. He should've known better than to stuff any of the Night's Watch nonsense into her head.
Dipping her brush into the cold water, Aza used her right hand to scrub the floors now. She was naturally left-handed, she used her left hand for practically everything. It was the one she used the sword with, the one that could muster nearly all her strength in a single punch with, and now Alliser-fucking-Thorne was going to make it into a useless, stiff mess at this rate. "First Ranger Benjen took a few of the men to Winterfell a couple weeks ago." Aza briefly raised her head, moving into a half curious tilt. "I don't suppose you're not upset for not going?"
"Ha!" Aza threw her head back as she laughed before moving her hand up and down as the brush's bristles did their work against the floor. "Do you think Benjen could've trusted me to behave myself?" Raising a brow, she caught Rowan's laugh as her lips remained in a mischievous smile. "'Sides, I'm not the perfect person to show what bein' in the Night's Watch is all about, yeah?" Inclining her head towards him, she crinkled her eyes, letting them smile when her lips did not. "You should've gone with him."
Rowan seemed to like and respect the Night's Watch, always on the defense for them and speaking his ill thoughts on the Wildlings whenever he could. He was a brave and righteous, young lad and Aza couldn't help but find it admirable and sad at how naïve he was. He would sooner learn there was nothing great about what they were doing. That the Night's Watch were a bunch of unwanted criminals and outsiders, forced to serve and protect a Wall and ungrateful people against those scary "Wildlings".
"Why did Benjen go to Winterfell anyway?" she asked, brow quirked curiously. "Is he getting some more recruits?"
Rowan raised a brow. "You don't know? He is, well, he was a Stark." That captured her attention, mostly because the Starks were well-known throughout Westeros. They called them the descendants of the First of Men after all. "That's his family in Winterfell, the Warden of the North is his brother, but I really hear it's because the King and Queen will be there." Aza's face immediately soured upon hearing Westeros' royalty was but half a month's ride away from her. Rolling her eyes again, she pushed the brush deeper against the floor, moving to the next spot that was dirty and untouched. "I take it that you don't care for 'em? You lived in King's Landing… Have you ever saw 'em?"
"I've never seen the Queen," the girl answered brusquely, "but I've met her coins." Rowan stopped moving, interested in what she meant by that. "In my company, we had spies and we had assassins. We had smugglers and we had merchants. We were everywhere and nowhere all at once." Just thinking about the sellsword company she worked under for years made her happy and sad at the same time. What became of it now? Now that she was sent to the Wall, that is. Did he take it and claim it as his own? Did the members she thought to be like family separate? Aza had no idea of knowing what became of them, but if anything, she hoped they were all still alive. "The King? I saw him in a few brothels every now and again. He's drunk off his ass most of the time."
Looking around to see if anyone was listening, Rowan slowly crawled his way over so that he was close enough to keep the conversation to themselves. "What did the Queen hire you for?"
"To keep an eye on a few folks," Aza answered nonchalantly. "She wanted lengthy details on what they were doing and where they was going. I'm sure if she didn't like what she heard, she would've ask for me to put a blade in 'em."
"Who was it the Queen wanted you to watch?" It probably wouldn't matter if she told him, especially since neither one of them could exactly leave this place in one piece. Her thoughts of escape slimmed down to none for the past two months. Aza thought about every single way she could flee, but even if she did manage to escape, how was she going to survive? Aza didn't know the North, so getting lost was all she was bound to do. Though she supposed getting lost was much better than scrubbing floors all day.
"The Hand of the King." Aza looked around as she replied, making sure nobody was listening in or paying them any mind. "Lord Jon Arryn. She made me watch him to see what it was that he was doing."
Her friend looked all bug-eyed just then. His shock hadn't really made much sense to her until he told her the reasons. "You know he died, don't you?"
She hadn't known that at all.
Aza blinked a few times in her surprise and slowly shook her head. "No, I didn't know."
"That's why the King is comin' North. He's most likely gonna ask Lord Stark to be his new Hand since he be comin' all this way."
How strange, she couldn't help but to think. Lord Arryn didn't seem like he was on his deathbed when she was made to keep tabs on him. She did however hear that he had gotten sickly, but she hadn't known it was to the point he would die so soon. It hadn't mattered in the end, at least to her it didn't. Jon Arryn was no kin or friend of hers. He was just another old lord that was now dead.
"What does it matter? The politics of it all… It has nothin' to do with us." Pushing all the speculations aside, Aza paid attention to the task at hand. If she ever wanted to get out of this cleaning punishment, she had to make sure she steeled her anger at the sight of Thorne if he were to show his face to her again today.
"Az," Confused, for a moment of who called her name, she looked up to at Eddison, affectionately known as Edd by many. He was a steward here and became a familiar face among the throng of strangers along with a few others to her. "Time to get groomed."
Almost immediately, she dropped her brush in the bucket and picked it up to place it on the bench closest to her. She was finally relieved of scrubbing floors, she was literally going to jump at any chance of escape now. Her ears picked up on Rowan's laugh, who shook his head as he did. "You'll finally know peace for a time, huh?" She heard him say, teasing her after knowing the pain she had gone through.
"But you won't." She patted his back. "Make sure you get all the spots I couldn't get, yeah?" Chuckling at his instant frown, she turned to Edd and gave him a sharp nod to show she was ready to leave. "You know, my hair is already short," Aza said as her fingers grabbed a couple strands of her hair to prove her point, "and I don't have myself a beard… Where else are they gonna cut?"
"Coulda sworn I heard you say you want to chop your hair off some more." Knitting his brows together to show his confusion, his eyes then looked over at her. "But you said the line was too long for you last or am I making all of this up, huh?"
It surprised her just a bit that he remembered that. She had forgotten about it entirely. Folding her arms behind her head, she kept a leisure pace as the two of them left the common hall. "I forgot about that."
"Almost had me thinking I was touched…" Rolling his eyes, Aza couldn't help but chuckle. "Not only that…" He turned to look at her while he spoke, "Lord Commander says he's taking you off cleanin' duty, he thinks you learned your lesson 'nuff."
Usually Mormont didn't interfere too much with what Ser Alliser ordered. She assumed that he thought it would build discipline if they dealt with Ser Alliser treatment, but for him to have a say now? Aza wondered if he thought that her treatment was unreasonable too despite the fact she deserved a good half of it. "I wager Thorne'll be unhappy knowin' Lord Commander had a say on this."
"Oh, he was," Edd said, shaking his head. "I was there t'see it."
Initially curious to Thorne's reaction to it all, she parted her lips to let the question flow but then suddenly decided not to. The more she thought of Thorne, the more she got herself a headache. It was best to not think of him when he wasn't around. She didn't want him to have a home inside her head.
Slender fingers swam through thick brown hair, still trying to get a feel of this new coiffure. Just the feel of it was different. Aza had always sported short hair because it help her efforts to look less feminine. It also helped during battle so that her hair didn't smack itself right into her face. Shorter hair was fitting for a swordsman while longer was better for an archer, at least Aza thought so. She couldn't see how long hair would not be a nuisance while she swung her sword around when all an archer needed to do was stand firmly in one spot.
Just a month ago, her hair was once long enough to place in a small ponytail, but now? She couldn't gather enough of it to tie it up except for the side-swept fringe partially across her thick and arched eyebrows. She liked the new style strangely enough. It made her feel different almost. Shearing off some more locks felt like she was further freeing herself of the Aza that she abandoned some years ago. Whatever it took keep herself separate of that little girl she once knew was the biggest progress into who she wanted to be. This identity crises, this constant ignoring what her once young heart had loved and wanted, had been given another tier to climb. One day, she would be able shut the door to her past forever.
Since there weren't many mirrors in the Night's Watch for it wasn't for the vain and they had no one to impress, she had to take a gander at herself through her reflection in a puddle in its own corner of the courtyard. She couldn't remember the last time she actually cared about how she looked. Without looking at the water's surface, she already knew she didn't grow an inch. Aza stayed right at five foot one, much to her dismay. She was about as tall as a boy of eleven or twelve despite being six-and-ten herself. Her short stature made it easier for her to be picked on and she could tell Ser Alliser liked towering over her because he thought that put some fear in her. It was one of the things that made her stick out like a sore thumb. She already felt like an outsider anyway due to the coloring of her skin among the sea of pale.
Aza was a girl with warm-colored, brown skin. Most people of Dorne had her coloring as well, some were even paler than her too. The Summer Isles had people of so many shades of brown, both light and dark, but here? All she saw was pale and more pale. At least in the South there had been a few of different varieties due to the harbors that many foreigners flocked to for both traveling and selling their wares.
Her brown eyes, big with a slight tilt, trailed down to the boiled leather and chainmail she wore to see how flat her bindings made her look and how the black made her appear slimmer than she was. It would be hard to survive here, constantly binding her breasts and having little to no time to let herself to get a breather without them. At least within her company, she could go home and be a girl for once in the solace of her privacy, but here? She would never have the time or the solace. She was surrounded by men and more men, especially since they all slept in the old Flint barracks together. If only she could find her own cell to keep everything under wraps.
Standing upright, she gazed at the area where the sword training was. Thorne was monitoring, as usual, which made her uncomfortable. The last thing she needed was for them to get into an argument so that he could further prove to the Lord Commander that she was best made a steward. That was the last thing she really wanted.
Swallowing a bit of her pride, she held her head up high as she walked over, clenching and un-clenching her hands as she made her way. The sounds of steel meeting steel, arrows cutting the air and making a whistle before meeting their intended target or their unintended one, the snow, and Ser Alliser's insults to the recruits had become such a constant sound in these past three months. It was getting harder and harder to think of this place as some sort of nightmare or plainly temporary. At this rate, it was bound to be normal to her. It was going to be something close to home eventually.
"I see you've decided to join us for practice, Yearling." His voice cut any sort of resistance she was trying to build herself to have. As much as she wanted to stave off her anger, Aza felt ignited in the harbors of rage just hearing his voice. "Pick yourself up a sword and prove yourself, if you can even do that."
Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, Aza withheld from saying anything back. Rowan looked at her, worried about how she was going to behave, but she was going to prove him, herself, and anyone who doubted wrong today. Aza quickly jogged her way to the armory. Once she reached it, Aza pulled out a sword with ease from the sword rack and her eyes immediately scanned the weapon like there was no tomorrow. What angered her the most was how ugly the swords were; they were dull, clearly overused with not enough whetstone to the blade in efforts to sharpen them, and their handles? A mess. Is this what the Night's Watch was working with? What they were going to be killing Wildlings with? She hoped these were just practicing swords because they might as well use needles against the Wildlings at this point. The needles would be much sharper than their swords ever were.
Keeping the comment to herself, she walked back outside to the courtyard, right over to Thorne and stood before him. His eyes, cold as ever, looked at her and then down at her hand. "That's the wrong hand, Yearling."
"It is not the wrong hand." Trying to think how she could phrase this without her words poisonous, Aza swallowed the lump of pride in her throat. "I use my left hand."
"Your left hand?" His brow raised, questioning everything she was saying and what she was doing. For this, Aza could not fault him. A left-handed swordsman was rare, it wasn't a common occurrence, but that's what she was. People would say upon sight of seeing her sword being strapped to her right hip that it was wrong. "And if I say use your right?"
"Then I'll be weak and this spar will be for naught," she told him simply, meeting his eyes as she spoke to convey her honesty. "A complete waste of time, really."
"Matters not what hand you use. The Wildlings will cut you down either way." Tearing her eyes away from him, Aza tried her best to not shake her head. "You, I want you to knock the Yearling on his ass. Show him what it takes to become a proper brother of the Watch. I'm worried he got so used to cleaning the floors that he just don't know how to fight anymore."
Clenching her teeth, Aza tightened her grip on the handle of the sword, watching her opponent take a few steps towards hers. Darting her tongue across her dry bottom lip, Aza watched as the sword was lunged straight towards her. She was given some time for her to be quick enough to raise her sword in time to block it. Considering her mood as of now, she had felt no need to indulge in a struggle of power or make this spar any longer than it should be. Aza took a few steps back and brought her sword down from over head at him. He managed to block her attack by the thinnest of seconds, much to her dismay.
Since she had put a good half of her strength in the attack, knowing they wouldn't be prepared for it, she pressed the sword down against his, making him be forced to lower himself in order to gather his strength to push her back. He struggled, his legs buckled, since he had been without an option but to conjure the ability to push her back.
She kept him there, trying to weaken him so that he would exert himself, but there were other plans made for her. "You," Ser Alliser said to another, "and you and you." He added three people into the fight, much to her surprise. With her eyes wide, she had raised her foot, slamming it into her first opponent's face. The force of it knocked him flat onto his back as she prepared herself for the other three. Raising the sharp end of the blade towards them, her eyes looking at the three of them wildly to see who would attack first. She tried to calm herself, telling herself she could do this and she been in situations like this before. If she panicked, she'd go berserk. This was training and not a real battle, Aza had to forcefully remind herself.
Rushing forward to who she believed weaker out of three, she watched them swing the sword vertically, missing her as she quickly ducked. She used the flat surface of the sword to hook the back of their legs, sending them head over heels to the snow-covered ground. Another rushed up from behind her and if hadn't been for the crunching snow, she wouldn't have heard them and prepare herself. Instantly, she ducked, letting them run into and across her back, and driving themselves into the ground without much effort. The last one that remained seem more cautious and lack the impulsiveness than the others.
They had thrust the sword towards her throat, an area they least expected her to protect, and she had been so lucky by the inch she moved that let the sword glide past her by a slithering inch. Her heart, pumping so fast and hard in her chest, gave her the incentive to fight much harder. It almost felt like she was in a real battle with how her adrenaline was rushing. Their blades met, the clanging song of metal ringing into the ears of all who was in the courtyard; steel grating against steel was sung over and over until they grew tired of it.
The next time he swung his sword, Aza caught it and angled it to the ground, making it pierce the snow and possibly the dirt underneath. She threw back her head and charged it towards him in a rough headbutt, forcing him to drop the blade and clamp his hand over his face. She wasn't sure where she hit him exactly until she caught sight that his nose was bleeding.
"I didn't mean…" Aza tried to apologize, wishing she had some form of restraint. She dropped her blunt-edge sword without thought, about to run towards him until…
"Don't you go apologizing or coddling him," Ser Alliser warned her, making her quiet and still in an instant out of fear of giving him a hasty retort. "He should've known better." It was just a spar, not an actual battle. There was no real need for injuries, at least that was what Aza had thought. "You let this little Yearling beat the three of yous." His voice held scorn, she could tell, and his expression didn't beg a differ either. "Just what good is this lot if they can't even face the likes of him?" His onyx eyes almost looked like slits in his anger. "Pathetic."
Between Thorne and the spars, she was unprepared for the sound of the gates of Castle Black opening. It gave her a scare, her heart nearly leaping, and she immediately turned face it. For a brief second, she could see the outside world beyond Castle Black. The outside world she dreamt of running out to that could lead her back to King's Landing, where the sun always shined despite how the air smelled of shit. Where her company was and how she hoped to reunite with them and kill the bastard that put her in Castle Black. All her wishes and dreams had almost seemed nonexistent though. The freedom that she wanted, that could nearly taste, had been so unimportant to her for a moment's time.
Instead, her eyes found themselves staring at something else, at this one person in particular. Out of the group of familiar and unfamiliar faces, he stood out most to her. It could've been just how sullen he looked, dressed in all black as if he was already in the Night's Watch. Despite the sad look his face wore, his eyes were filled with wonder, getting a taste of his new surroundings, and what obviously enraptured him most, as it did many, was the Wall.
Naturally, her curiosity of him should've ended there. He would become another brother, another face she'd see every day for the rest of her time here. But when his dark eyes suddenly focused on her, Aza found herself freezing on the spot.
Whether if it was the shock of being caught or because she refused to tear her gaze away like a weak maid, she kept her stare and he had kept his. For a time, this sullen boy of black of hair and black of clothes was the only thing her eyes took notice of. Thorne took a few steps forward, being the true cause of her finally slewing her eyes away from him. "This is Benjen's lot?" His question was met with an casual 'aye' by one of the senior brothers.
By the time Aza looked back at the sullen boy, his eyes were paying attention elsewhere. Much to her surprise, it was at another person; a dwarf to be exact. When the hood of their cloak was lowered completely, letting their eyes feast the sights of the stronghold, Aza immediately recognized who he was. Apparently, he too recognized her when his eyes took a glance in her direction by chance.
"Well, well…" A half smile grew on his face, his eyes lit up with amusement and intrigue. That was the natural look of Tyrion Lannister. "They've finally caught you?"
Aza slowly crossing her arms, leaning all her weight against her left foot with a inquisitive tilt of her head. "Do you think I came here willingly, My Lord?"
Tyrion's smile never left. "I don't suppose I can ever imagine you doing a lot of things willingly, Aza." It almost pleased her to know he remembered her name. Though their encounters had been few, they did leave quite the impression on one another considering how they met in the first place. "I'm more than surprised you haven't set this place to flames yet."
"I've thought about it, trust me," she practically muffled her answer. Ser Alliser soon cut her a sharp look, apparently having heard what she said. "What brings you here, Lord Tyrion? I know for sure you won't be taking the black."
"I came here to admire the sights and see what life of the Night's Watch is all about." His answer was simple enough, she could tell he meant it with the ways his eyes kept looking up at one of the wonders of the world. "Have you looked over the Wall yet?"
"No," she admitted rather bitterly. With her constant cleaning duty, when could she ever have the time to? Not only that, her hatred for this place left her hardly wanting to find joy and the little beauty in anything about it.
"I see." Tyrion nodded before looking at the boy that came in the group of new recruits with him. "Over here," Tyrion told him, motioning for the boy to follow the order with a signal of his hand. "Aza, this here is Jon Snow. He'll be joining the Night's Watch."
Jon Snow. His name didn't leave the biggest impact on her but it was unforgettable, sort of. Kind of like a name you would remember rather than letting it breeze by to never skim across your mind again. Rather awkwardly, Jon stood before her and she gave him an uneasy once-over. Aza was never good at starting bonds, she usually left that entirely up to the other person.
"This is my friend, Aza." Her brow instantly quirked at the usage of the word friend. "Well…" he stumbled, shrugging a bit, "friend may be too strong a word, considering he tried to kill me once."
Aza snorted loudly at that, holding back a laugh. "It was just business, My Lord."
"Tis' a great story over some wine." The Lannister's eyes looked up at hers, almost pleadingly. "Please tell me that you do have something to drink here."
"Wine? I'm sorry to inform you that we don't have that fancy kind of drink 'round here," she made clear. "Beer? Now that we do have and lots of it."
How could someone look disappointed and satisfied all at once? She wouldn't believe the look to be true if she wasn't actually seeing it before her own eyes. Blinking a few times in pure curiosity, she watched Tyrion sigh in what sounded like defeat or maybe disappointment. The latter sounded much more reasonable than the former. "That'll do, I suppose." For the first time since he arrived, Jon smiled. The brooding look of him was gone for such a short span of time. Aza glanced his way, soaking in the sight, before forcing her eyes back at Tyrion. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to look around the place. Please, take care of my friend here. He's most excited to be here."
She thought she didn't hear right. He was excited to be here? A person really wanted to be here and stay? Aza scrunched her face up in a combination of disgust and disbelief. "Seriously? You're… you're excited to be here? Are you mad? Listen, we don't need anymore touched men 'round here. We have enough already."
The poor lad thought she was jesting and chuckled, not knowing she literally meant what she said. Aza was considering heavily that he was either crazy or stupid. "I've wanted to join the Watch for some time now." He actually admitted that and it seemed to ring true with the way his eyes were still marveling the place. Aza couldn't believe it. That someone willingly and happily came here on their own volition. He cemented, to her, that he was touched. He had to be… a lunatic. A pure lunatic. There was no way that the boy was sane. He couldn't be. She just couldn't fathom a sane person actually saying those words out of their very own mouth and truly meaning them.
"Why in Seven Hells would you give up your freedom for… this?" Aza emphasized 'this' with her arms, literally forcing him to look around again at this place as if his vision was foggy minutes ago and it'll clear up when he truly looked around him. Around him was this stronghold that couldn't even defend itself against an army and their greatest defense against the Wildlings was this huge Wall. How could the boy not see that none of this was well worth it? It wasn't worth anything except punishment. Her life here was punishment, but he meant this as a choice. It was something he wanted.
"I didn't have much else." A look of surprise came across her face, her eyes capturing the glimmer of hope in his own. What kind of life did he live where he thought this was his only choice? His life had to been something rough for him to give up his freedom and everything else for Castle Black.
Shaking her head, she released a long and tired sigh. Aza was mentally exhausted trying to figure him out, so she took her defeat with stride. "Well then…" Patting his shoulder, she meant to leave him to get a tour of the place along with his new black brothers. The mercenary was standing right as his side, facing the opposite way of him before turning her head to look at him. "Welcome to the Night's Watch, Jon Snow."