"I learned not to trust my visions of the future completely in the harshest way possible." Aenar I Targaryen, God-Emperor of Planetos.
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Seeing the Night's Watch recruits dragging the severed body and limbs of the Ice River Clan Leader, Aenar sat back down and spoke in a gentle tone: "Now that we've cleared the garbage from the environnt, we'll begin negotiations again."
"We understand the benefits Your Grace is asking for, but this is not a decision we can take lightly. I'll go back to the camp and, after discussing it with the majority, I'll co back with a definitive answer," Mance replied, getting up from his chair.
He wanted to accept the proposal, but, looking at the leaders of the tribes around him, he knew that many were still reluctant to agree. He didn't want to force sothing like that. Forcing soone to submit can always bring variables, and he didn't want to cause any more chaos than was already occurring.
However, Mance could see that at least a third of the group was ready to agree to the terms, and that took a lot of the pressure off him. Knowing that he had supporters was comforting.
Aenar wasn't surprised. If Mance had accepted straight away, he would have suspected that the Free Folk were tricking him just to get into the North and spread quickly, making it practically impossible to eliminate all the Free Folk in the North in a short ti.
"Winter is coming, and with it, death," Aenar spoke in a calm tone. "I'll be expecting good news, Your Grace."
Mance looked deeply at Aenar and nodded. "May the gods have rcy on us," he said with a serious tone.
"Mance, I'll be staying at Castle Black as a guest. I'll be seeing if the southern king is soone of his word," Val said, surprising Mance, who pondered for a mont and accepted the Wild Princess's proposal.
"Watch out for him," Mance said with a tone tinged with concern. "My wife will kill if anything happens to you."
Val smiled at the ntion of Mance's wife, her sister Dala. Like any woman of the Free Folk, Dala was an excellent warrior and even wiser than most n.
"Take care of my sister and unborn nephew," Val said with a serious tone, while looking at the giant Wun Wun. "Besides, I have a great bodyguard."
Mance nodded and turned to leave, along with the other leaders of the Free Folk tribes, leaving Val with Wun Wun and Ygritte as bodyguards.
"I hope I'm not a nuisance, Your Grace," Val said to Aenar, who smiled kindly at her.
"It's an honor to have the famous Wild Princess in my improvised court," Aenar said with a laugh, making Val laugh along with Ygritte.
Aenar's eyes fell on Ygritte for a mont. In another reality, in another life, that woman was his great love, and he could understand why Jon Snow had fallen hopelessly in love with that not-so-beautiful red-haired woman. Even looking at her, he felt that the two of them were really compatible.
--
In the Free Folk camp, in the main tent, Dalla, Mance's wife, held a silver cipher decorated with First n runes. Her belly was so big that it was hard to imagine how many babies she was carrying and how she could still move.
Dalla, like her sister Val, was blonde and blue-eyed. However, in contrast to Val's mature charm, the queen of the wild exuded a more youthful aura. Even so, her eyes revealed that, despite her age, she was a wise woman, sothing that many could confirm.
Stroking her enormous belly, Dalla whispered to the baby in her womb: "You may not be born a prince, but your father is trying to give you a safe ho, a place where you can run and play without fear of dying of cold or hunger."
Dalla had not yet chosen a na for her son or daughter. According to the customs of the Free Folk, children were only given nas after they reached a certain age. In the Far North, children suffered the most, as many didn't survive the first few years of life.
However, although she was a long way from seeing the child reach a certain age to receive a na, Dalla had already imagined countless nas, for both girls and boys.
Suddenly, a feeling of intense cold gripped the air, alarming Dalla, who had been extrely vigilant since her husband's departure. Without hesitation and enduring the pain of being pregnant, the queen of the savages shouted: "Prepare for battle!!!"
As soon as she spoke, drums echoed throughout the camp. She recognized the chill that sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't the cold of winter, but the coldness of death!
It wasn't the first ti she had felt it. When her parents died and were resurrected in front of her, she had experienced the sa icy sensation.
An icy mist began to spread silently over the surroundings. Hundreds of bright blue eyes, like blue stars, appeared through the mist. The sound of horses' hooves echoed, alarming the watchn who were on standby at the edge of the camp.
Then tens of thousands of similar eyes opened in the mist. The savages' expressions showed pure terror at the sight of the tens of thousands of undead. And leading the wights were hundreds of n and won wearing ice armor and wielding ice swords, riding dead horses.
White Walkers!
An army of Wights, led by White Walkers.
Dalla held a sword, but didn't leave the tent. She had a more important task than fighting: protecting the Horn of Winter!
She knew exactly why the Night King had ordered the attack so close to the Wall, where his powers were weakest. He had discovered that the Horn of Winter was in her possession.
In the sky, a three-eyed raven was watching the army of Wights led by a hundred White Walkers, looking stern and full of concern. At that mont, he felt that he was having trouble seeing scenes from the future, as if he was being interfered with by sothing.
Separating another raven from himself, Brynden Rivers, the Three-Eyed Raven, controlled the animal and sent it to deliver a ssage to Aenar on the Wall. At the sa ti, he used the Three-Eyed Raven's body and perford magic again, sothing he had never thought he would do again.
White branches erged from the hard, frozen ground, wrapping themselves around dozens of Wights, strangling them and separating their heads from their bodies. Even with their heads ripped off, the Wights continued to move, only their heads remained motionless on the ground.
However, faced with tens of thousands of enemies, Brynden, who was old and weak, couldn't slow down the advance much. Especially when the White Walkers noticed him.
One of them condensed a spear of ice in his hand and threw it into the air. The spear tore through the wind with an intensity reminiscent of that of a Scorpion, showing just how strong a White Walker was.
Brynden dodged the ice spear and gave up trying to stop the Wights' army. He focused only on the White Walkers and just prayed that Aenar would arrive quickly with Caraxes and incinerate all these enemies right then and there.
While Brynden was fighting the White Walkers, uncontrolled brutality was unfolding when the Wights collided head-on with the Free Folk army.
The horde of Wights, who were afraid of nothing, including pain, advanced uncontrollably against the Savages. The first encounter between them was brutal, to say the least. The Wights gained the upper hand by a large margin, killing thousands in a single onslaught.
What caused the most fear were not the Wights, but the friends who died and revived instantly, attacking their forr comrades in arms without hesitation.
While the Savage army was fighting the Wights, a White Walker sneaked into the camp. On his shoulder, a half-decomposed rat pointed towards the main tent. A cold smile appeared on the White Walker's blue lips and, despite his handso appearance, only the purest terror was transmitted to the people around.
Any n who tried to stop him were easily killed. A second attack wasn't even necessary; they usually died at the first blow, and those who survived were unable to get up and fight again.
A boy no older than eleven saw the White Walker and didn't hesitate to attack with his spear. His parents had been killed in front of him by a White Walker. There was only hatred in his eyes.
"ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!" The boy shouted to gain montum and courage, but, faced with the monstrosity that was a White Walker, his struggle seed... futile.
The White Walker cut the boy in half, scattering his guts in the surrounding snow. He seed to still be alive for long seconds, with tears in his eyes, watching the figure who had killed his parents walk away from him.
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