Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 143: Breaching of the Wall

—At Winterfell—

The fireplace in Winterfell's interior hall was roaring nice and hot; even with the hectic activities going on, Bran Stark simply remained motionless in his wheelchair while his eyes were glazed over white before returning to its regular brown. Word had already reached Winterfell of an evacuation order of non-combatant personnel, the sickly and crippled along with the castle's denizens who were either too young or too old to relocate south to the Twins. All of which were contained in a rolled-up raven scroll in Bran's hands.

His mother, Catelyn, had been trying to move her son but to no avail. "Brandon, we have to go," she tells him.

"I have to stay," he replies. "Otherwise, the allied forces will never learn how to defeat the Night King. And I still need to 'see' more before the Long Night comes."

"You are too young to even consider such a notion! I mean, look at you. You don't have the use of your legs anymore. What help could you possibly be when you have so much to live for?"

"I'm the Three-Eyed Raven, mother. I can see things that happened in the past. I can see things happening now, all over the world."

An outlandish claim, but Catelyn's maternal instincts wouldn't allow her to back down with trying to convince her second son to evacuate Winterfell with her.

KNOCK, KNOCK!

"Go away—" she called out before begin cut off.

"Come in," Bran said.

The door was slowly pushed open, revealing Samwell Tarly near the entrance. For several months he had been studying how to become a maester at the Citadel in Oldtown. He had only arrived at Winterfell a few moments ago; and judging by the expression on his face, Samwell had apparently discovered something of great importance that he could no longer remain in the Reach.

ooOoo

Samwell sat at a table surrounded by papers with only candle light illuminating the room, writing notes in a book with his wildling lover Gilly sitting across from him. For a long time, Gilly was learning how to read—from both Shireen Baratheon and, of course, Samwell himself. Ever since then, she's made some progress whilst her incest-born son Sam played nearby.

"Do you know how many steps there are in the Citadel?" Gilly asked almost eagerly.

"No," Samwell replies.

"15,782. Guess how many windows are in the Great Sept of Baelor?"

"I don't know."

"This High Septon Meynard, he recorded even his own bowel movements. What does 'annulment' mean?"

"It's when a man sets aside his lawful wife," Samwell answers visibly annoyed.

"Meynard says here that he issued an annulment for Prince... Rhager, Ragger... and remained him to someone else at the same time in a secret ceremony in Dorne. Is that a common thing in the south or—?"

Samwell slammed his book down. "Gilly, these maesters...they set me to the task of preserving that man's window counting and annulments and bowel movements for all eternity, while the secret to defeating the Night King's probably sitting on some dusty shelf somewhere, completely ignored," he started raising his voice. "But that's all right, isn't it? We can all become slavering, murderous imbeciles in thrall to evil incarnate as long as we can have access to the full records of HIGH SEPTON MAYNARD'S 15,782 SHITS!" he panted, feeling his frustration leave him.