To the Dreadfort
POV of Mance Rayder
"This seat is soft," Tyrion commented as he jumped up and down the seat to check its softness. "Even the carriage built by my sister to carry her royal ass from one place to another is not as soft as this. Or as smooth for that matter. My sister would be envious. We mustn't tell her."
"Seems like you're not much of a fan of your sister." Ambassador Mance, a man with a strange accent and someone important enough to be escorted by 20 guards spoke. He wondered what the man had done to be in favor of Lord Bolton.
He discreetly looked at his two Lannister guards, noticing how uncomfortable they looked between the stoic Bolton guards.
"Considering that she's been trying to kill me ever since I was born for the monstrous crime of killing my own mother, I would say I have just about as much love for her as I have for my father." He commented softly, not really feeling very comfortable talking about his family situation with others even though what he was telling was no secret to anybody.
"But let's put that aside. Tell me, Mance… I can call you Mance, right?" he asked.
"Sure. Ambassador Mance makes me feel like a pompous fool anyway." The older man said with a smile.
"Mance then. Tell me, Mance, are those smallfolks really using steel plows or have I had a bit too much drink this morning?"
"No. You're not drunk. And I was just as shocked as you the first time I saw this. In the North of the Wall, the tribes would go to war with each other for such good steel."
"North of the Wall?" he asked in surprise, the value of the man sitting in front of him going up a few notches in his mind. "Are you perhaps one of these 'wargs' that I've heard so much about?" he asked, hiding the giddiness he was feeling under a curious facade. Though judging by the grin on Mance's face, he doubted that he was succeeding.
"Unfortunately, no," Mance said with a smile. "Though I would have loved to enter the mind of a bird and fly above the ocean, I'm not a warg."
He wasn't a warg then. Tyrion wondered why Lord Bolton brought him down the south then. Was it something about the person that made him so valuable? Oh, he loved mysteries like these.
"So, you're not one. But do wargs exist, right? I mean, they're real, aren't they?"
"As real as you and me. As real as the giants. And as real as the Children of the Forest." Mance said with an easy grin, and he almost felt his heart burst from childish excitement right then and there.
"There are rumors down the South that when Lord Bolton came down from his expedition up the North of the Wall, he brought a tribe of Giants with him. Can you tell me about them? How many of them were there? How did he control them? Do they eat meat or not? And what about those Children of the Forest? I didn't know Lord Bolton also had brought them the South with him."
Mance chuckled at his words like an amused father chuckling at his enthusiastic son. It made him feel warm inside his heart. At the same time, it made him feel empty for not having a loving father of his own.
"One question at a time Tyrion. The carriage might be comfortable, but it'll still take about 3 days to reach Dreadfort. We've all the time in this world." Mance said with a warm smile as he lay back on the seat and looked out from the window. Just enjoying the sight.
He wondered if the guy was some sort of hermit up in the North. And that Lord Bolton brought him here to his wisdom. Despite his unassuming appearance, the man definitely seemed wise enough.
"Okay. First question first then. Do giants and Children of the Forest truly exist?" Tyrion asked and waited while holding his breath. The legends of giants and Children of the Forest were as old as the Wall itself if not older. And even if they were not dragons, Tyrion would consider himself satisfied if he got just one look at them.
"They do," Mance replied, not adding anything to that, much to his irritation.
"And…" he asked, "Is it true that Lord Bolton brought some of them back from the North of the Wall?"
"He has," Mance replied with a nod, and he felt his heart bubble in excitement once again.
"Will I be able to see them?" he asked, desperately trying to conceal the eagerness and hope in his voice and failing miserably.
"Oh, you definitely will," Mance said with a knowing grin, and he had to wonder what Mance meant by that.
"On to the next question then." He said, regaining his composure. "How are those farmers able to afford steel plows? And the buffaloes to pull them? And the canals as well as all the better clothes, better houses and all that…"
"The steel plows as well as the buffaloes and canals were provided to them by the Lord Bolton lord himself," Mance replied.
And he felt his jaw drop open at that. "What? Why? How? And… why?"
"Why help the smallfolk?" Mance asked with some amusement.
"Yes. Well… I don't want to sound rude, but I don't think there is a lord in the whole realm who would do so much for his subjects. Is it true that Lord Bolton was blessed by the Old Gods?"
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.123: Tyron Lannister's Past
Ch.124: Lundenhold