Of Bear and Dragon True
Fifth Day of the Fifth Month 294 AC
Jeor Mormont is far indeed from a fool. Even in those matters he does not oft concern himself with by choice and oath both, he sees with a keen and unclouded eye. "I see why you would wish to know the Northern Border guarded and the needs of the Watch and the Wall fulfilled, but surely there are enough of those who hold their oaths to the Imperium to give a proper report before the council without calling on us to vote besides noble and merchants? We have left that long behind us, the better to keep our eyes to the North. If an envoy is needed one shall be sent."
"And that envoy shall be heard before the throne, but there is worth in having council always to call and not just when need presses closest," you counter. Tapping your fingers along the table in thought, you consider how to approach this. In the end you motion to the window. "Look out, what do you see? Men who have dedicated themselves to the black, yes? They know this place, and here they are oathbound to stay, where others can return to the south. That perspective is valuable to have in the Curia, not to remind me of the stakes and the perils, my memory is quite good enough, but to remind their fellows, Vox and Princpes both. I have found to my sorrow that some men can grow complacent of even the most dreadful of threats if there is no mark of it under their eye, no voice to call them to mind. That and no more I ask for, a black cloak and the wisdom it brings, the voice raised in warning when the watchfulness of others might be sleeping."
"Still, such an honor weighs heavy upon me to receive in the name of any of our brothers," the Lord Commander confesses. "We are bid to seek no glories as surely as to sire no children, and while the latter might be given a measure of blindness to cover the weakness of men, the former is far graver a matter."
"Then do not call for names, a name is not needed," you shrug. "A mask of black might be worn with as much honor as a cloak, and thus no titles or laurels are to be given to any one name but only to the Watch itself, to which honor is rightly due."
He opens his mouth, looking not best pleased by the thought of mummery, closes it, then chews on his mustache in thought. This is far from the first time when you had asked of him to thread the proverbial needle, if never with thread so gaudy in seeming to the straightforward Mormont's gaze. "Who do you have in mind for this? Your Uncle?"
"Yes, he shall more gainfully search the Palace Library with all lore gathered from across the world and beyond than just the documents the Watch now holds..."
And it will help preserve his privacy from courtiers who might otherwise seek to curry favor, you think but do not add. Not that you are not proud of the notion, quite the opposite in fact, but this is not the sort of cleverness the lord commander would appreciate, especially as the other part of it would be keeping the Northern Lords from calling it undue royal favor.
For a long moment the elder lord is quiet, but from that very fact, you know what he will say. A 'no' would have been swifter on the tongue. "That seems as good an answer as we are like to get in this, Your Majesty."
***
Thus you lay it all out before your great uncle, the reasons and the assurances, the guards upon his person and his privacy both, allowing him the company of his family while still fulfilling his vows, not just in form as substance. "You craft circumstance with a skill exceedingly fine, Your Majesty," he confesses at last, the merest edge of laughter over longing and some emotion you cannot name in his voice.
"That I do not deny, particularly when heart as much as mind calls for it, uncle." You pause and consider your next words with care. "If you had not sent that letter to Braavos more than four years ago, I might not be here today with a crown upon my head, yet it is not mere gratitude that moves to to wish for your company, but the same emotion that drove you to write it. Come to Sorcerer's Deep, uncle. There are few of us already, and the troubles of the world, deep as they may be, do not require that you endure chill and aches to help in the mending of them."
"The world, not the realm alone?" he asks, you suspect stalling for time before he must say yeah or nay.
Motioning to the walls of the keep, you note, "This place was not meant to guard any single realm. How could it have been, when the realms of men have so changed over the long ages."
Aemon nods gravely and for a moment you struggle to read what is behind the gaze so like your own, but then then sparks of affection glitters bright in them like a star from behind a cloud. "Well and good then, I shall be the envoy of the Watch in thine councils and glad indeed for the company."
What next?
[] The Raven and the Dragon (Interlude)
[] Rat Hunting (Interlude)
[] Finding new lords for the seats and lands left vacant that you do not wish to keep
[] Write in
OOC: Sorry this took so long, it was not enough that I was busy most of today, I also had and internet outage when I finally had the time to write. Not yet edited.