Have to give it to Martin Luther King, the man had charisma. Only by repeating his words, instantly shot my own aura as high as the Wall itself.
That and the fight against that giant. Might as well be the first time someone would ever fight with a giant with bare fists, alone and still come out on top.
With this stunt I have gained their recognition. At least when strength is concerned. Mance too seems pretty awestruck there, hope he believes me…
"Thor, Mance is looking for you." Someone came running inside the temporary tent they have given to me, breaking me out of my musing. Sighing, I just followed the person until I was back to Mance's tent.
One look was enough to know that this place had considerably more men stationed now than earlier. Clearly, he was taking me seriously now.
"Never have I seen a man besting a Giant, let alone bare-handed. By the old gods, that was beautiful." Upon entering the tent, the first person to greet me with his youthful way was Tormund.
"Not as impressive as your beard, my friend." I smiled back, not sure what to say to this wild folk here in reply.
"So, did you finally believe me?" After a quick look at Tormund and others, I turned my gaze to Mance, who called me here.
"You didn't lie… however, this still doesn't explain how you will let my people cross the Wall. As you said, you have been with the Crows before, why shouldn't I believe that you are just merely working for them? Trying to gain trust here and then let us walk inside the altar to be slaughtered like pigs," Mance asked.
If earlier the man wasn't believing what I said was true, then at least now he was considering my words. That was progress, right?
"Yes, I was with Men of the Night's Watch, however, I'm not one among them. If I was, then I wouldn't have come alone here. As for why you should believe me?
I can't say why… I have no way to make you believe me. However, let me ask you, if not me, then who? What will you do when the dead start walking here towards your people?
To north of yours is certain death, and to south lays a wall which you claim you could siege, however, let me ask you how?
How you plan on doing so?
How many are you ready to lose before you cross that wall?
What if you did it, what comes after that? You think the Wall is the only obstacle there? You certainly underestimate the northern lords to think so. They will be after you the moment you step south of that wall." I said, making many of the free folks there shut up. I could tell that many of them were angry with my estimation.
"Then we'll fight them too," a free folk finally spoke up.
"Maybe you can, maybe you can't. But do you think that would be the end of that? While rest of the kingdoms certainly don't care much about the barren land of the North, however, what do you think the king will do once he realizes that the new rulers of the North don't bow to him? Another war.
So let me ask you again, Mance Rayder, how many of you do you think would survive?" I once again shut them up.
Mance at this was quiet once again. He too was from beyond the Wall. He knew what I was saying was the truth.
After a while, he finally spoke.
"Can you assure that those Crows will let us in?" he asked. Him asking this was enough to know that he was really thinking about believing me.
And if that is the case, then I too have to remain truthful here.
"NO…" I mentioned, making the rest of the free folks there agitated.
"I can't say whether they'll open the gates or not, I'm not a Crow and I can't say what they will do. However, I can say that even if the gates are closed on us, they will not remain once I'm done with them." I said with conviction.
"And we are just supposed to believe you at this?" he asked with a conflicted face.
"Yes, it all comes down to whether you believe me or not. Cause I don't have any other proof." I shrugged.
Once again Mance remained quiet, pondering something before he finally opened his mouth.
"Come with me."
---
The cold was biting, sharp as blades. Their hands were tied, their faces bruised, and their backs pressed against the frozen wall of the cage they were locked in. Snow drifted down steadily from the gray skies, but neither man had moved in hours.
"Well," one of them said, breaking the silence, "this has been the worst camping trip I've ever been on. Though I believe that something like this must be a daily occurrence for the Men of the Night's Watch."
The other man didn't reply.
"You know, I don't even like the cold. I was a summer child. Hot days, warm wine, soft beds. Someone to warm the said bed. Gods, I miss wine. Though the piss water they provide here isn't that bad either." He chuckled to himself, though the sound was hollow.
Still, the second man said nothing.
"Really, not even a sigh? Not even a grunt? You Northmen are a boring bunch? Or is it only limited to you Starks."
His companion slowly turned his head and gave him a tired glance. His lips were cracked, and his face pale from the cold. The dark rings under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights and long suffering.
"I get it," the talkative one went on. "You're thinking, 'if I ignore him long enough, maybe he'll freeze to death and shut up.' But no, not me. You'll have a better chance finding King Robert's whores getting quiet of his short fat dick. Don't ask how I know."
The other man looked away again, too tired to argue.
"You know what's funny?" the first man continued. "You're supposed to be the expert in snow crawling. You and your brothers in black. 'Let's go beyond the Wall. Let's hunt shadows. Let's chase after old tales and frozen monsters.' Ain't that why the Watch was built? And now look at us. Tied up like pigs, waiting for death."
He shook his head, smirking bitterly.
"It's not often I think that my father was right, which he often is, but admitting that hurts my heart. This is one of those times that I'd rather have my heart hurt, crushed, hell even pierced with an arrow over this slow cold death.
I should've stayed in the south. I should've stayed with gold, silk sheets, and whores. But no, I had to be curious. Had to come see if the tales were true."
Finally, the other man spoke, his voice a rasp. "They are."
"I noticed," the talkative one muttered. "Especially when one of them killed half our party and left the rest of us screaming."
Silence fell between them again for a long moment, broken only by the wind howling through the trees.
"What's the difference, today or tomorrow, with those things around, death would have come eventually." Finally, a reply came, making the first man look up to him.
"Aye, death would have come eventually. But at least I would have died the way I wanted to."
"How? Fighting like a warrior?"
"Nah, nothing that grand. In peace, in the arms of the woman I love."
The quiet man finally had a flicker of emotion on his otherwise cold face.
As he leaned back and let the silence settle again, he looked at the man beside him—his golden hair, his black cloak torn and soaked with blood.
"If it's any better, it's an honor to work with you, Ser Jaime." He finally said, maybe to provide the little bit of comfort he could to his partner in their upcoming doom.
"Aye... for all it's worth, Stark. It could have been worse, I guess. At least dying here means knowing we don't turn into one of those w..." Jaime was stating when suddenly the cage they were held in rattled and a man opened the gate for the first time in a long while.
Both of them saw something, or rather someone, they knew, which shouldn't be possible since right now they were captive here by these wildlings.
"Been a while since I saw either of you. Seems like the real north wasn't much to your taste." Came the very familiar voice, making them know this person was real and not their hallucination.
xxx
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