The journey to Last Hearth was a slog. The weather grew harsher, yet Aurelia coped fine with the cold and occasional blowing snow. However, the further she plodded from the Wall, the more she felt herself slip into a chilled despair. Not only did the pain of leaving Jon, once again unknowing of when they would meet again, sting her to the core, she could not help revisiting memories of Robb and the Greatjon and his heir. Her horse kept her counsel during the long days and dark nights, providing small solace to her lamentations.
On the last night of her trek, Aurelia stretched out by her small fire, the horse tied across from her a few more paces away. She nibbled on salt beef and hard biscuits with the last of her berries as she watched the crackling light.
"We're still little closer than before to our goal," she sighed. "And yet how could we be any closer? That oath… he cannot break it, and it provides so little room for bending. We may have already bent it as far as it can be…" She chucked a bit of knotty beef in the fire.
"Stannis offered what Robb did as well, with just as much authority, but fewer men… and the wrong wife. He will not, could not, take Robb's offer without men to replace him. And where do I get those men?"
She shook her head, rising and walking toward the horse. She held out the last biscuit and the horse sniffed it, then whorffed it into its mouth. She ran a hand along the horse's flank and sighed.
"Men matter not. Not yet. The oath cannot be bent this far, not without… Is this all we were meant for? A taste of our truest desires and then nothing? What is there left for us if that is all we are destined to have?"
She moved back to her place by the fire and settled down to rest. Her sleep was fitful, her mind full of too many thoughts, too much emotion.
Back at the Wall, Jon suffered as well. He tended to his duties, had meetings with members of the Watch and Stannis, did his best to focus on the path ahead, yet whenever he was left alone, even for a few moments, he felt an internal pull towards a different path.
Loyalty to his duty as Lord Commander held him in check, but he could not help wondering, what if Stannis had offered Aurelia, and not Val, in exchange for his betrayal of the Night's Watch oath? Could he give up his honor for a life with her? Winterfell and legitimacy were desires he long held, but never believed he could achieve and after Robb's death the offer of either from some other king felt hollow, no matter how much the Watch lay indebted to Stannis. But Aurelia? The gods could have everything, but not her. If anything could brand him a true traitor to the Watch and his oath, she was it. And the gods were cruel in their torment, to place her within reach once again, to feel her united with him, body and spirit, and then pull her away again. He had so much to say to her, to be with her, and once again no way for them to be together. His duty now held him as hers once had. Was this to be their fate?
Jon shook his head, trying to clear it for the hundreth time of such thoughts. He moved through the main courtyard, watching the newer recruits train, wishing he could join the fray.
Fighting is far easier than leading, he thought with a sigh.
"Lord commander," the soldier's voice snapped Jon out of his malaise.
"Yes?"
"The lady Melisandre desires your council," the young man said, as though such a request should be expected.
Jon nodded. The red woman had watched him from a distance for days. "I will see her momentarily."
The soldier blinked, as though he had expected Jon to simply follow him, but then nodded. "I will let her know. She is in the the king's solar." He backed away as Jon heard the soft pad of Ghost's paws approaching from behind. The soldier turned and left, leaving Jon to scratch behind Ghost's ears.
"What do you suppose she wants?"
Ghost huffed.
"Lia didn't know either. I guess it's time to find out."