After many days of walking through snow, ice, and freezing winds, we finally saw it in the distance—Hardhome. It was the biggest settlement of the Free Folk, standing tall and crowded along the cold northern coast.
When first Mance told me about it, I almost got baffled. This was the first hint of the wildlings not really living out there in wild and resembling somewhat like modern humans. It was a real settlement, not temporary tents for those nomadic, no, full-on proper structures with roofs and even a little harbor.
Benjen didn't even believe it when he heard of it, but upon seeing it, everyone was left baffled. It wasn't an engineering marvel by any means. The room I lived in at Castle Black and Winterfell when I first arrived in this world was better in many aspects than how these wildlings live here, but still, it was a real home.
I have to say that I was impressed.
Wooden huts and watchtowers were built tightly together, surrounded by walls made from sharpened logs and old bones. Smoke rose from fires, and the smell of cooked meat hung in the air.
If only those stubborn Night's Watch Rangers saw this. This proved that it's not impossible to have reasonable talks with them, that these wildlings could indeed live alongside the rest of the Westerosi people if given the right conditions and incentives.
Hardhome was a tense place even after these people had a proper settlement. People moved fast, holding weapons close. They still followed the barbaric culture here. The fear of the White Walkers was stronger, especially here since how close to the north this settlement was built. We were near their land now—the Land of Always Winter. Everyone could feel it. Even the wind seemed colder.
"For some time now, the hunting gains have been reducing. No fish or animals. Don't wander off, remember you're not welcome here." Mance looked at us three southerners while saying it.
It wasn't that he wasn't welcoming us, it just wasn't his place. This place wasn't his, the Free Folk made this settlement way before he ever came from the Wall to the north.
While he was respected by many wildlings, he cannot guarantee they wouldn't act against us. And here 'us' was of course me, Jaime, and Benjen.
Still, this was our first goal before we could go further north. If we wanted to stand a chance against the army of the dead, we needed more than just Mance's army. We needed all the Free Folk. Even if they weren't fighting on my side, that was fine. However, I can't let them be consumed to fight for the other side.
We walked into Hardhome as a group—Mance, me, Jaime, Benjen, Tormund, Osha, Ygritte, and a few other wildlings who had come with us. Our presence stirred whispers. Eyes followed us from every corner.
They recognized Mance, of course. But me? They weren't sure what to think of me. I wasn't even wearing any warm clothes and my appearance was screaming out that I wasn't one of them. Me and Jaime both.
No matter how annoying, gotta give it to the man that he was handsome.
We both blond were getting much attention, definitely not the good kind. But nothing like Benjen in his dark Night's Watch clothes. Thanks Odin that I didn't take those black cloaks from Castle Black.
"Quite a hospitality we are getting. Is this place always like this?" Jaime leaned closer to Mance.
"No, usually by now there would be two arrows dug deep in your knees before you could take another step inside here. They're like this because of him." Osha on the side replied before Mance could and pointed at Mance to tell that we were only alive due to Mance's presence here.
"Excellent," Jaime grumbled under his breath and shut up.
Soon after we arrived, Mance called for a meeting after some time we took the rest. It was a hard journey on most of us. Even for me, while not tired I had accumulated enough mental fatigue to just either sleep or do something to give me dopamine.
A journey on foot without anything to time-pass is definitely not what I'm gonna look forward to the next time I wish to travel.
The important leaders of the Free Folk came. Karsi, the fierce spear-woman. Styr, the Thenn war chief. Rattleshirt, known as the Lord of Bones. Orell, the eagle-eyed skinchanger. Tormund, loud and proud as always. Osha and Ygritte too. And even Mag the Mighty, the great giant king, stood at the edge of the meeting circle, watching us with sharp eyes.
The meeting took place in a large open hall made of dark wood and snow-covered stone. Fires burned in the center, giving some warmth, though not enough. Everyone sat in a wide circle, warriors all around. Weapons stayed close.
"Why did you bring a crow here." The first to speak was none other than Styr. The big bald man with strange facial scars in the form of long running strips across his face. He was the most hawkish in terms of fighting against the crows and people beyond the walls in general.
Not to mention I heard Tormund say that he came from the tribe of Cannibals. Yup, some people here were cannibals. Perhaps calling few of them wildlings wasn't exactly wrong.
He didn't care too much about me and Jaime, we weren't wearing black. However, he glared at Benjen like he fucked his mother. Surely if Mance wasn't present there then he long would have attacked Benjen.
"This man," Mance said, pointing to me, not even bothering to answer Styr's question or Benjen's presence in general.
"calls himself Thor. He defeated a giant with his bare hands. No weapons, just his bare hands." He said, talking not to Styr but everyone present there. Bringing everyone's attention to me. I didn't like attention, as long as it's not from the prettier females of the society.
Sighing internally, I stepped forward now, taking my turn.
"Friends in North…," I said.
"We ain't friends of you…" Styr immediately shot me down. Talk about being a prick.
"Well, if not, then you better be. Cause we gonna need each other very soon." I shot back him a glance. And carried on before he could say anything else.
"I'm Thor Odinson."
"Not a member of the Night's Watch, crows as you all call them. Not from Westeros either. A place called Asgard. But that doesn't matter. What matters is the truth—there's an army of death out there. I have seen it and even have fought one. And I'm certain none of you doesn't know this. Y'all do much before than us… and you also know that it's coming for us all."
"Not just you, not just me. But all of us. The more we fall the stronger they get."
"Aye, we know. What that has to do with you… you acting their spokesman…" another wildling spoke up.
"Certainly not as I spoke for all of us…" I didn't bother even looking for who spoke, broke his sentence and carried on.
"I'm here to offer you all an accord. To come to south before the harsh winter sweeps the north white." I said and waited.
A few scoffed. Rattleshirt laughed, bones clinking. Understandable that many wouldn't believe it.
"You expect us to follow you south." He glared at me. "Since when did you highborn southern cunts started to show us Free Folks pity. Eh?."
"Rattleshirt, listen to the man. I brought him here cause I have reasons to believe he isn't lying." Mance on the side said. While he wasn't outright taking my side, he at least provided me a stage to raise my voice. That was enough.
"No…" I replied. Almost immediately before that bone-masked wearing bastard cut me again. He looked almost confused what I meant.
"They don't. They don't pity you, or care about you for that matter. In fact, if it's in their hands they would gut all of you before you so much so even touch the wall. Any of you."
A chorus of displeased noises grunted out, those Free Folks definitely didn't like my blunt approach.
"Why we let him speak again?" Jaime turned to Benjen and asked with half smirk and half anxiety. Those Wildlings outnumbered us 20 to 1 after all. Maybe even more and that when Mance's party was on our side.
"Shut up. Let him speak." Seeing the noise wasn't lowering down, even voices to kill us all were mixed in the usual angry shouts. Mance butted in.
"However, they won't. Cause we need each other. When the winter hits the northern shores. It won't hit just the Free Folks or just the southern lords.
It will sweep any and everything living under 6 feet under solid hard ice." I said and this finally calmed down the situation a bit.
"Here in north, when the White Walkers start their march, none of the Free Folks can survive. We all know that. You all need to go beyond the wall if you wish to survive."
"We can do that ourselves. In our terms, in our ways." Another voice rang out, this time it was a woman, Karsi if I'm not mistaken her name. A spear woman.
"And do tell how many of you would cross it, while doing it your way," I asked, and no answer came for a while.
"Enough." She finally replied.
"Enough…"
"Enough is it ? How much is enough? 100 Thousand Free Folks. How many you y'all are willing to sacrifice before it's enough? A 100? Thousand? 10 thousand? Perhaps more.
Cause don't think the wall is the only obstacle in your way. Night's Watch stand, and after them comes the southern lords. The entire might of seven kingdoms would be against you when you make that trip." I said, raising my voice, finally leaving out the diplomatic tone and entering into the Thor's deep enriched voice.
My speech brought silence for a few seconds.
"Why enough when you could avoid all the bloodshed. Come with us in peace."
"We don't kneel." Another spoke.
"Good, cause just as I said to Mance, I don't expect you to do that either. I have discussed with him and he'll explain to you all but the long and short is that you won't have to kneel."
"And in return I just ask you to fight for your survival. The Wall won't hold forever. When the dead come, they'll kill everyone—man, woman, and child. Fight us to defend against the Others…" I finally said.
"We've held this land for centuries," Karsi said, crossing her arms.
"And yet you have an army here in north whose sole purpose is to cross the wall… what's the point denying it. You all wish to be out of here. That's the only way to survive."
"We're no cowards." She replied back with a little more ire this time.
"No," I said, "you're warriors. I've seen your strength. That's why we need you. Not to run, but to live. Because every man, woman and child we lose, we add another death walking in the army which would come for us, all of us, sooner or later."
Mag the Mighty grunted, speaking in the deep voice of his kind.
"If enemy come… we fight." He grunted.
I hope he means fight with all of us and not fight to kill the southerners and then fight the dead…
"We are not one people. We do not follow kings. Why should we all listen now?" Rattleshirt asked.
"Because we all bleed the same, and I thought the North has a king… there he is." I pointed at Mance.
"Don't follow me, follow him."
There was silence for a moment.
"He surely can talk." Osha on side muttered with a grunt.
"You tell me." Ygritte rolled her eyes. The Ronald she knew was good at talking. This man doesn't talk like him, not at all, however, he talks well just the same. Was he really not him?
xxx
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