(Val, Castle Black)
The kneelers had met their aid with skepticism and suspicion.
Unfortunately for the fuckers, and fortunately for the Free Folk, they were bound to the terms of their unfair treaty, and therefore any support her people were willing to provide, had to be accepted with open arms.
There were a few surprises that left her worried.
For one, that Mudd elder had looked at her appraisingly, as if gauging her worth. Unlike the rest of the southern kneelers, he had simply grunted in annoyance and let them pass through like it was normal.
The man wasn't afraid of them, nor was he worried about being stabbed in the back as his lot loved to do. He looked mostly amused by the situation, which left her disgruntled and unbalanced.
He looked far too pleased with himself, making her suspicious of his reactions and wondering what he was plotting behind their backs.
None of the Free Folk ventured too close to their newfound 'allies'. While they were willing to do their part in fighting for a living, no one said anything about having to befriend the bastards intent on stealing their lands.
It was all about gaining enough merit. Anything else was secondary and of no importance to them.
"You look ready to stab someone, Princess." A voice spoke out loud.
Val was prepared to reach for her dagger and stab the cunt in his eyes, only to receive a deadpan from the stranger who'd had the balls to interrupt her.
Raising his hands in surrender. "Now. Now. Let's keep this civilized."
Not that she was willing to listen. How the fuck had this fool managed to get past the rest of the camp. She was in the literal center of the camp for fucks sake.
Forget the normal patrols, nothing should have managed to get past Tormund. That man wasn't easily brought down, and he was not allowing anyone to get past him unscathed.
His sage green eyes, and wild brown locks niggled at the back of her mind, as he casually dodged all her stabs. The bemusement in this prancy fool's face annoyed her enough to go for his vital spots.
She knew him from somewhere, yet she couldn't quite recall where exactly. Not forgetting the important matters while trying to gut the bastard. "What the fuck is a puffed up peacock like you doing here?" She asked.
Gauging his reaction and any information that could be gleaned from his actions.
His expression was dry as could be. "Charmed. Then again, what could one expect from a savage like you?" There was no bite to his tone, the man finding this situation more humorous than he should.
Val didn't care for his hobbies, but she was getting more and more frustrated with his seemingly inhuman reflexes. The man never once looked like he'd tire from dodging her attacks.
It got to the point where her strikes became erratic, which worried her, as she knew full well that she had far more stamina than this.
Eventually she had to drop the dagger from this weird exhaustion, the free folk leader beginning to suspect that something was off.
"What did you do to my men?" She snarled, not letting up at all.
"Relax, they're all just taking a nice long nap. You'd think they were walking on magma for how tense they were."
Sensing no lies or guilt on him, she could only momentarily accept his words at face value, "What did you do to me? My body feels weird, too uncoordinated, and my emotions are way too all over the place for this to be normal." She said accusingly.
"A bit of gravity and an altered version of the confundus charm. Nothing too terrible if you ask me." His easygoing tone did not put her at ease.
The bastard wasn't even using proper words, for god's sake. Just her luck that she would end up meeting a mad sorcerer in these shitty times.
As if reading her mind, "You got trust issues, las. You probably need to work on that." He suggested 'helpfully'.
If she weren't dead on her feet, the man would already be riddled with holes. His taunting was getting on her nerves and starting to piss her off. Who the fuck did he think he was walking in here and using whatever magic he had?
With a mock bow, "Erlend Mudd. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, oh, legendary wildling princess." He finally introduced himself.
That did not appease her whatsoever. Instead, anger, fear and indignation filled her as she tried to salvage whatever pride she still had. Her body might be unnaturally exhausted, but her mind was running at full sprint, trying to find something or anything that could help her get out of whatever this was.
Despite her fear of the man, "Come to mock us more? Haven't you already had your fill of forcing us away from our homes?" She snarled at him.
He might have put the fear of the gods in her, but she refused to go down without a fight. No matter the magic he used.
Visibly rolling his eyes at her. "Please, like you're any better, what with your little scheme for the gift." He snarked, still looking completely unbothered.
Looking at him resignedly and wanting to cut right through the bullshit "What the fuck do you want?" She asked.
"I have an offer to make for you. Whether you accept it or not shall make the difference between whether your people can return home or not."
That… She did not expect.
"Of course, there are conditions. My people are after all dying while protecting your ungrateful asses, so we can't just let you get away scot free."
Despite scowling at his description of her people, she could only ignore it for now.
"I'm all ears, oh mighty King." The sarcasm practically dripped from her tone.
"Great, that's what I like to hear. So…"
Val didn't know if she would come to regret this later on. Now all she could do was grasp the last remaining lifeline they were given and make due with it.
Now, if only she could wipe that smug smirk off his face.
…
(Erlend Mudd, Castle Black)
"You look far too pleased with yourself, Lenny."
"They've delivered themselves to me. The least I can do is be happy with them." Waving off his Uncle, Erlend was debating on what to do with the new additions to the army of the living.
Rolling his eyes at him. "Do be careful with the bastards. Savages they may be, but they do have some wit to them." His Uncle cautioned him.
"Naturally, it takes a certain level of intelligence to cajole those fuckers into listenting. That or being a great butcher."
His Uncle nodded his head in agreement. "From what I've seen, those are what wildling women look for when looking for a man." Smirking at him with a knowing grin.
"I'm not gonna fuck the damn princess. She has that look that she would stab me if we ever went at it." Erlend deadpanned.
"Meh, not like a stab would do anything to you as you are right now."
That had Erlend stare bemusedly at his father-figure. He wondered how his Uncle would react to finding out that he was a god.
The man's reaction would be priceless. If only he had cameras.
On a more serious note. Honestly speaking, he hadn't expected Val of all people to lead the wildlings in this half-mad attempt to regain their homeland.
Mance had been broken, at least temporarily, after all, a puppet was useless if it could not lead on his behalf. Once the man recovered from the mental blow Erlend had given him, he would do his best to ease the tensions between the two sides. With the young god even throwing him some bones, and allowing the wildlings to return to their homeland provided they swore the necessary oaths.
It was the best outcome both sides could have had, and as long as a few centuries passed smoothly and his descendants didn't fuck up, tensions between the them would naturally dissipate.
Any rebellions in the future would of course be dealt with harshly, he didn't put all that effort into this shit, just for some self-righteous prick to ruin it all, but other than that, Erlend didn't have much ill-intentions towards them.
At the end of the day, they would be but a small part of the ever-expanding empire.
So, when his imprints reported the movements of a certain group of wildlings approaching his Banners, he was intrigued.
It would be greatly helpful to his cause if he could draw in more influential figures from the Free Folk to his way of thinking instead of letting Mance do all the work for him. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Val's mental state upon seeing him was about as bad as one could expect.
It took a few dozen more stabs once she recovered before she was open to discussion, which said a lot about how the other leaders and chiefs would react to his proposal.
Edmund had the right of it when he said that moving the fuckers to Skane and Skagos would make colonizing the lands beyond the wall easier. He had even gone so far as to entertain a British-style dominion, Canadian style, or an Indian reservation as the deal between them suggested.
The main issue with that line of thinking was that it would massively deplete the lands he wanted in manpower and population. A key component for any development planned in the future.
So Erlend decided to use the simple but effective trick of the carrot and the stick.
Either get sent into the 'reservation, die and get trapped in your body by an ice popsicle, or kneel and return to your homes once the crisis is dealt with.
Incredibly cruel, yes. Yet, it was necessary when dealing with the free folk, who only respected strength and ruthlessness. Just like how they planned to blackmail the North into essentially giving up their richest and most fertile lands, Erlend planned to do the same to them for their resource-filled territories.
As the saying goes, what comes around goes around.
…
So far, the deaths were manageable, it helped that a lot of the men lost during these skirmishes were continuing to be replenished by the men arriving from the south. As more lords fell, those in high positions quickly realized that they needed to take this fight seriously, otherwise, they could kiss their cushy castles goodbye.
Erlend had made a grand entrance upon making his presence known. This boosts the morale of the men and gives them great confidence in their ability to defend against the dead.
Erlend needed to delay his arrival till now, as he wanted the threat to truly set in. That way the fuckers would be more grateful and malable to the Crown's efforts.
At around the same time, just a few days later, was the landing of a few thousand men or so from Essos. The remaining free cities had come to the aid of the living upon realizing that Westeros was not joking and that the white walkers were real.
Those who weren't able to muster many troops sent supplies and equipment. As well as whatever specialized units they could provide.
It was Catelyn and Aunt Dalia's idea to send envoys to the closest free cities and see if they would provide any type of support. This was unlike in the show, where only a paltry sum of troops were raised, and a mishap of alliances that would sooner stab each other in the back, were fighting the threat on their own.
Jonny boy got screwed, by the people he endeavored to save no less.
Sure, his 'allies' would love the idea of stabbing him in the back. But that was more trouble than it's worth, considering most had figured that he was their best chance at offing the Night King.
Erlend had made sure that the envoys emphasized the Night King's divine control over ice. Meaning the Narrow Sea wouldn't keep the fuckers safe once the white ones was done with Westeros.
It was a plain old threat to get their asses into gear, but he wasn't the one carrying it out this time. Seeing help arrive gave another morale boost to the men as the idea that they weren't just fighting to protect Westeros, but rather the world, began to spread.
All the while boosting the numbers that were fighting and increasing the odds in their favor.
Erlend decided to place them mostly in the Eastwatch where they wouldn't disrupt the current plans too much, as they were frankly too inexperienced and pretty shit at fighting.
Only their best units were transferred to Castle Black, to give the free cities the idea that they were not in fact being sidelined despite coming all the way here to provide support.
Which they were. As Erlend only cared about the morale boost and the political implications it gave to the rest of this fucked up world.
Patting the ground gently, "Not that I find you unattractive, Darling. It's just that these bastards ruin the vibe you're going for."
If the ground trembled in agreement for no apparent reason at the same time, then that was none of his business.
…
(Lorimas Mudd)
Staring at the map on the table, Lorimas ignored the discussion happening around him.
The rangers that did manage to return had reported a massive army heading towards the Wall. Leading them was none other than the Night King himself, the legendary figure no longer imprisoned and held at bay.
The bastard was finally making his move, and he wasn't even hiding it.
What made it even more infuriating was that the rangers that did return, had admitted to the fact that they had been sighted, but let go by the growing army of undead. Making it clear that they wanted their presence to be known.
What gave him a headache was the agitation and tension that spread throughout the camp as the news was revealed.
Despite the bravado many had shown, the chained wights, the numerous skirmishes with the Walkers and their hordes, few could come to comprehend the danger they were facing.
Now it was coming for them, and they had to be ready to defeat it once and for all. Otherwise, they would all meet a fate worse than death.
"Blasted cold! Can't wait for His Majesty to gut the bastard." Greatjon cursed out loudly.
A few of the lords around him grumbled in agreement, showing great confidence in their nephew.
Not one to let an opportunity go by, she took it. "Aren't you a fucking northerner you big oaf. Chin up, if a damn greenboy southerner can bear it, then so can you." Maege retorted with a smug grin on her face.
Poor Willas tried to be diplomatic. "Please leave me out of this, Lady Mormont." He said helplessly.
The two northerners looked at each other for a moment before breaking into uproarious laughter. Greatjon nearly crushed the lord behind him as he struggled to maintain his balance.
Willas could only roll his eyes at them, not caring much about his dignity as everyone else laughed around him.
Randyll, the stone faced bastard actually cracked a smile. Showing that the tension that held everyone up was easing, if only for now.
Letting out the deep breath he was holding, Lorimas was thankful for the distraction. His focus shifted to his nephew, who was conversing with Stannis and Benjen.
The trio was left undisturbed by everyone, knowing that the three are likely planning ways to trap the Night King. Erlend had plainly stated that if anyone other than him even dared to step on the great enemy's path, then they might as well just burn their bodies now and save everyone the trouble of dealing with another undead.
The ice necromancer had somehow gotten stronger, and he was no longer vulnerable to Valyrian Steel or Dragonglass.
Only magic can put him down.
Knowing this, many had agreed that isolating the Night King and letting Erlend fight him in single combat was their best bet. That way, Erlend wouldn't have to face numerous Walkers, thousands of the undead, and a Night King to boot.
The lad had more than proven his strength in Braavos and Yi Ti, and he could probably wipe them out on his own, but no one wanted to risk any surprises from the Night King. Someone as ancient as him should have more than a few hidden cards.
Ancient Magic, one from the age of heroes. That's what everyone feared. Unsure if their liege would be able to handle it.
The problem then was how they isolate the bastard?
Unless he was so arrogant that he decided to signal out Erlend, then they would have to cut through thousands of bodies just to get to him.
Not that his nephew seemed all that worried about their enemies. Lorimas distinctly felt that the brat was looking forward to such a scenario, if only because it would surely send a message to the rest of the world.
He knew the brat was cooking up something outrageous.
Many lords, at least those whose loyalty and bravery exceeded their sense, had recommended sending out everyone in a massive wave. A fight that would force the Walkers' attention on them, leaving their leader open for attack.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, and I've had the misfortune of being wed to a nitwit."
"Oi, watch who you call a nitwit. That's my sister you're talking about!"
"Oh yeah? Make me."
Unsurprisingly, the two immediately got into a brawl right then and there, with the lords around them either cheering on or trying to pull them apart.
Taking a deep breath to calm him, Lorimas felt like chucking the whole table at them. It didn't help that the wildling princess was openly snickering with her band of misfits at the arguing lords.
'Seven Help Me. These idiots are going to drive me insane.'
Just as he was about to do something about it, he noticed his nephew waving him closer. Without hesitation, Lorimas walked unobstructed to Erlend, looking curious at what the brat was up to now.
Just as he moved close enough to hear what Erlend had to say, his nephew spoke up.
"Uncle, how long would it take to gather a contingent of the best men outside of the guard?"
"Not too long, why do you ask?" Lorimas didn't get why he was asking this, as long as Erlend ordered it, it would only take a moment to gather enough men.
"Well then, it's time we made life difficult for the frozen cunt, don't you think?" Familiar with that smirk that spelled nothing but trouble, Lorimas sighed inwardly.
'This is going to be one of those outrageous moments, wasn't it?'