CHAPTER 14 | KEEPING SECRETS

DOZENS of cheers and screams riddled amongst the common room, almost shaking the floorboards beneath them. Maia stood next to King Stannis and Ser Davos, picking at her nails and wishing this time had headphones to plug into her ears. Oh, did she miss technology.

Jon was currently looking down at his feet as he stood, listening to his council criticized beside him: "You bring Wildlings here? Through our gates?"

He slammed his fist on the head table, causing Maia to look up at his stern expression. "Men, women, and children will die by the thousands if we do nothing!"

"Let them die!" Ser Othell exclaimed. "We got our own to worry about. Less enemies for us."

Cheers were shouted from the crowd of brothers. Jon's eyes connected with Maia's, and he found himself swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"Fewer," Stannis sighed, correcting the man's speech.

Maia snickered as Davos turned. "What?"

"Nothing," the King muttered, glancing in Maia's direction.

Sam stood from his table in front of Jon's. "There is good farmland in the Gift." He advised, causing others to laugh at him. "Land that no one uses now. A dozen of abandoned villages."

"Then why do you think the farmers abandoned those villages?" Ser Bowen countered. "Because the Wildlings raided them for years. Cut them down! Just like they did to this boy's people!" He said, pointing to Olly as his fellow brothers shouted in agreement.

Maia stood in the back, studying the men around her. There was so much negativity towards the Wildlings, and she understood, but that didn't make the Night's Watch any less innocent. They had done the exact same to the Free Folk. She understood Jon's point then: there was no greater time to make peace than during the brink of war.

Alliser Thorne piped up in usual gravel voice. "We've been fighting them for thousands of years. They've slaughtered villages. They've slaughtered our brothers."

"We slaughtered theirs," Jon whispered to Alliser.

Ed stood from his spot next to Sam. "I will follow you anywhere. You know that." He said. "But they killed Grenn and they killed Pip. They killed fifty of our brothers. I can't forget that. I can't forgive it."

"Haven't they done the same?" Maia whispered to Stannis. He nodded, and she noticed a couple of brothers turn to glare at her.

Jon looked towards his friend. "You were at the Fist of the First Men. If we abandon them, you know what they become. We can learn to live with the Wildlings or we can add them to the army of the dead." He met the eyes of the members around him. "Whatever they are now, they're better than that."

The shouts began again as Stannis and Maia glanced at one another. The Baratheon King breathed heavily through his nostrils before exiting the common room, leaving Maia behind in the corner. She looked towards the front again, noticing Jon staring at her. He nodded for her to depart.

•••

Maia sped throughout Castle Black, trying to follow Jon's steps whilst tripping on her own skirt. She smelt the burning of candles wafting from the desired location, and she didn't even stop to knock as she barged in the room.

Jon had been hanging his cloak on a spare hook when she arrived, causing himself to spin around. "I knew you'd be coming after that meeting." He sighed, resting his mallet on a table. "But I hope you aren't here to tell me not to let the Wildlings through. I don't need –"

"Forget about that." She interrupted as he drew near. "You can't sail for Hardhome."

He was resting his hands on her shoulders as the words flew out. "How do you know about that?"

"Maester Aemon speaks to me about everything." She excused, taking a seat on top of his desk.

Jon shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I must."

"No, you're not hearing me, Jon." She scoffed, tugging at her hair. "You can't sail there. I forbid it."

He laughed at Maia, causing her to crinkle her brow. "You don't have much say in the matter, love. I have to go to Hardhome to gather the army of Wildlings. You're starting to sound like the rest of these men." He stared into her worried eyes, inching closer as his hands caressed her cloaked arms. "What's troubling you?"

"I just ... I have a terrible feeling about it." She lied, hoping he didn't notice. "Actually, I know something terrible is going to happen."

"And how would you know that?"

Maia opened her mouth to speak, but found no words. He rendered her speechless. She was metaphorically treading into dangerous waters, and the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was blow her secret.

"How would you know anything about the Wildlings or the North? Your books only say so much." He continued, the raging bubbling beneath his skin. "Seven hells, you barely know anything about yourself. I don't even know what land you're from. You don't have anything close to the Northern accent. No one here has heard of your name or house. All I know is that you have this thing called a fiancé?"

She looked away from him.

Jon tilted his head, trying to search her. "What are you keeping from me?"

Maia met his eyes then. He was utterly confused, racking his brain just to figure her out, because she barely gave any clues otherwise. He had fallen for her personality, not her true character, and he was finally realizing it.

"Jon," she breathed out, fanning his cheeks, "do you ever feel like you weren't meant to be here?"

He nodded. "Of course, I do –"

"By here, I mean this time." She paused. "Because most days, I don't believe I was meant for this time. For your world."

He cocked a brow and ran his digits over his face. "I don't understand."

Maia's hands traveled over the leather of his coat. "I believe that ... I know things that are going to happen. I have predictions – strong predictions." She was using as few words as possible, trying not to give herself away. If there was anything the maester told her, it was to play the game.

"You believe in enchantment now?"

She realized he was trying not to chuckle. "I don't know –"

The door swung open, causing the two to separate before the incoming patron could notice. Maia watched Olly carry a hot plate of meal and throw it on Jon's desk. "Thank you," he muttered as the boy began to leave.

"Olly," Jon then called, allowing Maia to wonder if she could slip out before things turned worse. "If you have something you want to say to me, say it. It's alright."

The young boy turned around, walking closer. He looked at Maia – eyes curious at her reason for being there – and then to Jon. "You don't mean it, do you?" He questioned, voice screaming with hurt. "Telling the Wildlings you want to make peace? You're just doing it to trick them."

"It's not a trick," Jon whispered.

Olly narrowed his eyes. "They burnt my village. They put an arrow through my father's head, right in front of me. They butchered my mother and everyone I ever knew."

Maia looked down as Jon walked towards the boy. Olly's eyes bore into his own for a long moment. "I know what it's like to lose the people you love."

Olly only stared.

"I know this is hard for you." Jon agreed. "But winter is coming. We know what's coming with it. We can't face it alone."

The boy continued his glare, looking into the depths of Jon's eyes, knowing that he would never know what he went through. No one would. But Maia noticed it, and she felt it, and she was terrified. Not for Olly, but for the way he was glowering at Jon.

"Will there be anything else you need, Lord Commander?"

Jon shook his head, watching the young one walk out with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He didn't know if it was his nerves getting the best of him, but the way Olly stared didn't leave him with joy. He let out a sigh and looked back at Maia, who was swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Winter is coming," she nodded, "but I fear something else is coming before it."