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WHEN Jon Snow had his mind set on something, he did it.
Maia had spent the entire night prior with him, trying to convince him that leaving for Hardhome was not a good idea. She didn't care about him bringing the Wildlings to the Wall; she cared about the battle they would endure when they reached Hardhome. But she couldn't possibly tell him that – what would he actually think of her? – so she had to deliver her information in mixed messages. It didn't work.
She stood in the courtyard yet again, Sam by her side with a suspicious bag of items he wouldn't share. The snowflakes never ceased from the sky above, and Maia began swatting them away every second as she watched some of the Night's Watch brothers ready their horses for travel.
"Jon told me that you were trying a little bit too hard last night to sway him into not departing for Hardhome." Sam chuckled, looking in the blonde's direction. "You care about him, don't you?"
Maia shrugged. "I fear for the worst, Sam. He doesn't realize the threat that exists by leaving –"
"The threat still exists even inside Castle Black," he interrupted. "Best know that."
She was close to firing back a response, but considered it useless. Her attention was then brought to Ed and an unknown brother, who were seen escorting Tormund Giantsbane from the dungeons. They silently met up with Jon in the middle of the courtyard with Tormund looking down at the Lord Commander in usual grueling manner. With a nod, Ed unclasped the cuffs around Tormund's wrists.
Jon then proceeded to walk over to Ser Alliser, whom he was leaving the castle to for the time being. Maia couldn't hear their conversation, but she was sure Alliser was criticizing his decision, and for once, she agreed. She didn't hate the Wildlings – not at all – but she was terrified of what may come from their trip.
Maia noticed Olly staring at Jon as he passed, eyes narrowed in a cruel way, before they laid on her. She immediately looked away as Jon approached her and Sam, a grin gracing his handsome features.
"Safe travels, Lord Commander." Sam greeted. "Maia and I will thoroughly take watch when Alliser cannot."
Jon smiled softly. "Thank you both."
"Oh, and –" The larger man held up the bag in his hands, which Jon took with a crinkled brow. "It's dragon glass. It's what I used to kill the White Walker. I hope you don't need them."
The Lord Commander nodded, taking a piece up into the light before throwing it back in. "Me too," he muttered, hugging his friend tightly.
Jon turned to Maia, clasping a hand on her shoulder with a sullen expression. Before he could walk away, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. The raven-haired man was caught off guard at first, and then allowed his own arms to hug her. As she nestled her head into the fur on his cloak, she heard him whisper, "You don't need to make a scene."
"I don't care," she retorted in a hush, pulling him tighter. "Let them look."
He held her for one more moment, allowing her sweet scent to fill his memory. She was fresh from a bathing, he presumed, as the trace of soap and vanilla still lingered on her hair and skin. He wanted to make sure if this was his last moment with her – Maia, the eye of the storm – that he would remember the smell of vanilla. Maybe she had been correct, but he wasn't going to turn his back on the Wildlings otherwise. In the end, he felt it was what Ygritte would've wanted, and he wasn't leaving her death in the dust.
He couldn't believe how easily he had fallen in this dreaded pit again. In the past, Ygritte had said, "You're mine," and even after death, he kept that promise. He had used Maia at first as a gateway to his loneliness, but now he couldn't deny the care she gave him in his heart. It was like the Gods had given him a second chance.
Jon slowly stood away, giving Maia one last stare before hopping onto his horse. He couldn't stand to see the sadness in her eyes; he had to look away. Slashing the reins on his horse, he started leading his team to the gates as they opened, all the while Ser Alliser glared from the distance.
Maia watched them leave, not minding the stares she was receiving from the brothers around her. Sam hugged her shoulders as she cried, muffling whispers into his cloak like "I warned him" and "they're going to die."
•••
Maia lit up the dark, stone-cold room with a few candles as Gilly tried relentlessly to calm down her baby. Sam sat at the end of Maester Aemon's bed, smiling his way as he exclaimed, "There he is!" The old maester patted the child as he lay in his mother's arms.
Aemon's health was slowly deteriorating, but when Jon had left, everything seemed to slip away. It hurt to see the maester in such a state, but the three knew no one else would take care of him in his time of need.
"That laugh," he continued, "Egg! Egg laughed like that. One of the first things I remember."
Maia didn't need her memories of Derek to fill in the gaps, because she had read up on Aegon V Targaryen recently. He was Aemon's younger brother. Long ago, when Aerion, his older brother, died, Aemon almost became King of Westeros, but he refused the crown. After that, Aegon V became King.
Gilly slowly turned to Sam as the maester mumbled happily to himself. "Your little brother, Aegon, became King," Sam proposed.
"And before that, he was a jolly fella, like this one." Aemon mused, hand continuing to caress Little Sam. He laughed as the baby did.
Slowly, Aemon's eyes casted to the crooked ceiling above, and Maia swore she saw a glaze start to cover them. "Get him South, Gilly-flower," he whispered, causing Sam to turn. "All of you, go. Before it's too late."
Gilly sat back, swallowing down a lump lodged in her throat. She stared into the overwhelming lightness of the maester's eyes, and though he could barely see her, he knew he left an impact.
•••
The crying of Little Sam echoed off the walls, continuing itself for minutes straight. Maia sat in the corner of the room with Gilly, listening to Maester Aemon repeat, "Egg! Egg!"
Both women stood, allowing Gilly to move over to Aemon's bed with Sam. They both sat on each of the maester's sides, trying to help his sickness but knowing nothing could stop it. Maia had seen it before, and knew it wasn't a sickness, but just simply old age. She began to light more candles around the room.
"Mother's looking for you," Aemon mumbled, unaware of Sam and Gilly's watchful eyes. "Egg!"
Maia walked to place herself behind Gilly, seeing Sam wipe his tears away as she felt her own coming as well. Gilly frowned, advising, "Get some sleep, Sam. You'll have to speak for him tomorrow."
Sam shook his head. "You don't know that."
"Get some sleep." She repeated as her eyes rested on Aemon. "Maia and I will watch over him."
Maia nodded. "Don't deny the inevitable, Sam."
"I'm staying too," Sam replied, while the bags under his eyes had never been more prevalent. "He's always been good to me. I can't leave him now."
The room came down to a silence and everything was calm, but then the maester's arm shot out. "EGG!" He screamed as Sam caught his aged fingers. He started breathing heavily, causing Maia to bite her lip. "Egg, I dreamed ... that I was old."
Maia grasped Aemon's other hand, sobs racking her body as she witnessed the maester slowly loose his own breath. He had done so much for her, and now he was leaving. He was kind to her when no one else was; he appreciated her.
Sam gingerly put the maester's right hand down and used his own to lay it over his heart. He turned to the two women solemnly to announce, "He's gone."
