The clamor in the hall quickly died down, and under everyone's gaze, the Lord of Winterfell escorted the Queen into the hall first.
Before crossing over, Aegon had heard a saying: the Game of Thrones production team had limited funds and couldn't afford actors who were sufficiently good-looking, of the right age, and skilled enough in acting, so they had to settle for prioritizing acting.
The result of this was that many characters in the TV show were much older than they should have been, while some supporting characters were surprisingly beautiful...
The Queen before him confirmed this saying; she was much younger and more beautiful than in the TV show, and she didn't have that gloomy, cruel look that clearly marked her as a villain.
Her jewel-encrusted crown complemented her golden hair, sparkling brightly, and the emeralds set in it perfectly matched her bright, sparkling green eyes. She wore a pure, innocent smile and walked straight through the doorway without looking away, not even glancing at the Warden of the North beside her.
If one didn't know her true nature, who could imagine the malicious heart beneath this beautiful face?
Following closely behind was the King, who entered the banquet hall arm-in-arm with Lady Stark, who was also much younger than on screen. He was indeed red-faced and long-bearded, but much taller than the traverser remembered, a strong man with a layer of fat.
After that came a group of children from the Stark and Baratheon families... They all differed somewhat from their appearances in the original show, and Aegon didn't have the energy or intention to distinguish them one by one. Taking advantage of the moment when everyone was watching the entrants, he finally had a free hand and heartily feasted on the fish on the table. For the Dragonglass dagger that had saved his life, he hadn't had a proper meal of meat outside the Night's Watch mess hall for a long time.
The two brothers from the Lannister family entered right after the children. Jaime Lannister was truly tall, handsome, and imposing, dressed in a long crimson silk robe, tall black boots, and a long black satin cloak, looking more like a King than anyone else. And the little man beside him... If there was anyone in this world Aegon could recognize without any setting, costume, or sigil, it would be none other than Tyrion Lannister. It wasn't because his appearance was particularly striking or impressive, but because—he was a Dwarf.
This was probably the most worthwhile person to befriend in the entire Game of Thrones story. If he could connect with him, perhaps he could use... no, borrow his connections and influence to leave the Night's Watch without running away?
A thought suddenly flashed in Aegon's mind, but how could he, a mere Night's Watch recruit, strike up a conversation with a Lannister? Watching the Lannister brothers pass by and head towards the raised platform in the VIP area, he fell into contemplation.
The last of the great nobles to enter were Benjen Stark and the Lord of Winterfell's "ward," Theon Greyjoy. After these two also took their seats under everyone's gaze, everyone raised their cups to each other, exchanged congratulations, and then the banquet officially began.
Jon and the young squires still wanted Aegon to tell stories about encountering Wildlings during his patrols, but Aegon was no longer in the mood: "I've told most of my stories. What about you guys? Tell me your stories. I haven't been south of the Neck since I came to Westeros. Who can tell me about life in the South?"
***
There was one good thing about being with these simple young people—a few drinks later, they became acquaintances. Under the influence of alcohol, a squire belonging to the Lannister family was soon egged on to boast about himself and the adventures of the knight he served... Under the table, the bastard's little Direwolf happily gnawed on the meat bones the others at the table threw to it; on the platform, Jon Snow listened with relish to the stories of war, hunting, and love affairs from the other young men. Only Aegon, dressed in black, had his thoughts drifting elsewhere.
"Jon, how was your night?" A familiar voice sounded beside him. Benjen Stark had left his seat and come over to find his neglected bastard nephew.
"Very good," Jon replied happily. "Uncle, I heard Aegon say that the Night's Watch is very short of men now? When you leave, take me with you."
The squire who was enthusiastically recounting his passionate story with a widow outside King's Landing stopped and made room for the newcomer to sit. Benjen Stark straddled the bench and took the wine cup from Jon's hand. "Summer Red," he said slowly after taking a sip, "Nothing is sweeter than this wine. Jon, how many cups have you had tonight?"
"I'm not drunk."
"I didn't say you were drunk." Benjen put down his cup, looked towards where his brother was sitting, then turned back to carefully examine Jon. "Honestly, the Wall truly needs young men like you right now."
Jon lifted his chin proudly: "I'm better with a sword than anyone else I train with, and Hullen says my riding is among the best in the city."
"Not bad."
"Then you agree?" Jon suddenly became excited. "As long as you talk to Father, he'll agree, I know he will."
Benjen turned to look at Aegon, who shrugged—this wasn't something he had incited the boy to do. So the First Ranger turned back to examine his nephew's face: "Jon, the Wall is a very harsh place for a boy."
"I'm almost a man," Jon argued, "I'll be fifteen on my next naming day, and Master Luwin says bastards grow faster than other children."
"That is true." Benjen's mouth curved slightly. He picked up his cup, refilled it with wine from a nearby jug, and took a deep breath.
"Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne."
"That war lasted a whole summer," Benjen shook his head. "This young King you mentioned, he sacrificed ten thousand men to take Dorne, and later fifty thousand more died defending it. Someone should have told him that war is not child's play."
He took another sip of wine and wiped his mouth. "Besides, Daeron Targaryen died young at eighteen, you haven't forgotten that part, have you?"
"I haven't forgotten," Jon's face flushed, whether from the alcohol or youthful passion. He puffed out his chest and straightened up to look taller. "Uncle, I've made up my mind. I want to join the Night's Watch and serve."
The table fell silent. Indeed, many young men yearned for the stories Aegon told about patrols Beyond the Wall and fighting Wildlings, but only this one person had immediately decided to join the Night's Watch...
The squires might not have come from high birth, but most were legitimate children and heirs of their respective families, unlike a certain person who, as he grew older, increasingly seemed out of place with his brothers and had nowhere to go.
Benjen smiled: "Jon, you probably don't know. The Night's Watch is a group that faces death fearlessly. We have no family ties, we will never have children; we take duty as our wife and honor as our mistress."
"Bastards have a sense of honor too," Jon said. "I'm ready to swear the oath."
"You're still just a fourteen-year-old boy," Benjen was unmoved. "Until you've been with a woman, I'm afraid you can't imagine how great the price you'll pay is."
"I don't care about women!" Anyone could see that Jon's temper was rising; he felt insulted.
"If you knew, you'd most likely care," Benjen still had the look of a kind elder. "Child, if you knew the consequences of swearing this oath, you wouldn't be in such a hurry to join."
"I'm not your child!"
"I just wish you were my child." The First Ranger stood up and patted Jon's shoulder. "Come find me after you've fathered two or three bastards outside, and then see what you think."
"I will never father any bastards outside!" Benjen Stark might be mature enough, but having grown up in a family where the father was kind to his sons and the brothers were friendly to each other, he had never experienced what it was like to be a bastard. Fire blazed in the boy's eyes, and he spoke each word deliberately, as if swearing a solemn oath: "Never!"
Not just this table, but even those at the neighboring tables fell silent; everyone was staring at Jon. The bastard boy felt tears welling up in his eyes, and finally, he stood up.
"Please excuse me," the boy said with his last shred of dignity, and then, before the tears could fall, he ran off like a whirlwind. As he left, he collided head-on with a serving girl, knocking over a bottle of wine. A burst of laughter erupted from all sides. Jon shook off the kind hand of a squire in a yellow robe sitting at the same table and ran out without looking back. Ghost followed closely, disappearing into the low-hanging night.
***
Aegon almost covered his face and sighed. He was racking his brain trying to get out of the Night's Watch, while a certain chuunibyou boy was desperately trying to get in. Benjen's kind reminder was clear enough; the First Ranger wanted to tell Jon: join the Night's Watch, and you will have nothing but honor. But the young man not only didn't understand but thought his uncle was questioning and humiliating him.
Called you Jon 'Knows Nothing'... You truly live up to the name, Aegon thought with a hint of amusement. But suddenly, he remembered something and stood up abruptly: "I'll go check on him."
"Don't worry about him, let him calm down on his own," Benjen Stark waved his hand, but then quickly changed his mind: "Never mind... Alright, you go check on him. Don't let the drunk boy hurt himself."
—