Jon and Fafnir arrived at Mance Rayder's central wildling camp.
"So," Jon asked Ygritte, "what prompted all the wildlings to band together here?"
"You know nothing, Jon Snow," said Ygritte.
Fafnir giggled. "Ain't that the truth."
"The Crows think we are the most dangerous thing beyond the Wall. They know nothing. The Walkers are coming. They will destroy us all. You, me, everyone. And they are advancing south," Ygritte declared.
"Walkers?" Jon asked. A shadow passed over them, and Jon looked up to see a giant.
"Cool," said Fafnir. "This place feels more and more like home by the minute." A band of wildling children started hurtling snowballs at Jon and Fafnir. Fafnir's breath turned the snow to water, and the kids ran away in astonishment.
"The White Walkers kill all in their path. We're all equal in their eyes, and we're all as good as dead," said Ygritte.
Jon wanted to scoff at her fairy tales, and yet, he remembered the creature he'd seen in the woods by Craster's house. Was it a Walker? And what had happened to Uncle Benjen? The wildlings were supposed to be an unfriendly lot, so would a fairy tale really motivate them to band together like this?
Ygritte lead them to the largest tent in the center of the encampment. The Lord of Bones introduced Jon and Fafnir:
"We have brought two ex-crows," said the Lord of Bones. "This is Jon Snow, the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. And this is...his lover?"
"Ex-lover," Fafnir corrected.
Jon sighed, but said nothing. The man to whom the Lord of Bones was speaking was imposing with fire red hair and a beard. Jon wondered if he was Ygritte's father, and then he had a terrible fear that Ygritte was Mance Rayder's daughter. A wildling princess.
The red-haired man nearly finished his bite of chicken leg before he said, "I don't care."
"Neither do I," said the Lord of Bones. "But I do care that he killed Qhorin Halfhand."
The man Jon presumed to be Mance put down his chicken. "Now that is interesting. A Crow killing another Crow, eh? Well, let me get a look at this Jon Snow and his lover."
"Ex-lover," Fafnir and Jon said at once.
Jon stumbled, then bent his knee. "Your Grace," he started.
He didn't get a chance to finish because all of the wildlings in the tent and Fafnir burst out laughing.
"Now, this is a sight to see! Kneeling before Tormund? Did you ever think you'd see the day?" the Lord of Bones said.
"Now, now, hold on, hold on," said Tormund. "Plenty have knelt before me. Your mother was one of them."
"What...are you not...Mance Rayder? The King Beyond the Wall?" Jon asked.
"The Free Folk have no kings," said an unassuming man in the corner. "Stand up, Jon. You do not have to kneel anymore. I am Mance Rayder."
"Oh, I don't know, I rather like the kneeling," said Tormund.
Mance ignored him. He extended his hand to Jon, who rose and shook it cautiously. "Thank you for ridding us of Qhorin. He and his men have murdered many a wildling."
"Uh, you're welcome," said Jon.
"And did I hear correctly, that you are ex-Crows? I am an ex-Crow myself. What makes you want to desert the Crows and join us?" Mance asked.
"I suspect the same reason as you," said Jon. "Freedom."
"Uh-huh," said Mance. "That is the easy answer. Yet you still seem very bound to your old traditions."
"We were rangers, exploring mysteries beyond the Wall. We took shelter at the home of a vile man named Craster. While at Craster's Keep, I witnessed him sacrifice his son to a creature...it looked like a zombie...I believe you call it a Walker." Mance nodded. "Lord Commander Mormont, he knew what was going on. But he refused to take a stand to stop it. I..." He looked at Fafnir. "We have decided to stand on the side of the living."
Mance raised his eyebrows. "This I understand all too well," said Mance. He looked at Fafnir. "And you?"
"What he said," said Fafnir lazily. Jon grumbled under his breath.
Mance looked over Fafnir and decided not to bother for now. "Let's get you some new cloaks," he said.
Jon and Fafnir marched south with the wildling army. Mance explained their history along the way. Ninety different wildling clans, speaking seven different languages were represented there, all united under the fear of the White Walkers. They must move south of the Wall or perish.
"He's right, you know," Fafnir said to Jon in their tent.
"There will be a bloodbath if they reach the Wall," said Jon. "Wildlings will never be welcomed in Westeros."
"Why in Helheim not?" Fafnir asked. "What does it matter what side of the Wall you were born on?"
"You don't understand," said Jon. "They don't know our customs. They don't recognize kings and lords."
"Oh, they're progressives, then," said Fafnir. "Your lot can learn a lot from them."
"There is a wonderful simplicity to it, isn't there?" Jon mused.
Ygritte interrupted their conversation. "We're moving, girly-boys," she said with a quick wink before leaving.
Jon rolled his eyes. "I'm rooting for you with that one, you know," said Fafnir.
"Not gonna happen. I took a vow," said Jon.
"Ohhh, but you're one of the Free Folk now!" Fafnir said. "It'll be expected of you."
"Well, if you feel so strongly about it, then, why don't you do it," said Jon.
"Ew, no," said Fafnir.
"Why not?"
"Because it's bestiality, that's why!" Fafnir shuddered. Jon cracked into a fit of laughter. "Don't laugh! It's the truth! I'm so much farther up on the evolutionary ladder, it'd make your puny human head spin!"
The wildlings arrived at the Fist of the First Men where Jon expected to see hundreds of Crow rangers. What they found was blood.
"Walkers," Mance said.
"There isn't so much as a bone left," Jon whispered. "What could have done this?"
"I told you," said Mance. "Walkers. And all of your friends are with them now."
"With them?"
"They have joined the army of the undead," said Mance.
"Mormont was coming here," said Jon. "Are they really all gone?"
"They could run, I suppose," said Mance. "Tormund!" The large man with the red hair and beard stepped forward. "Tormund, we will scale the wall at Castle Black. Take a force of twenty men, and watch for my signal fire. And take Jon and Fafnir with you."
"The girly-boys?" Tormund protested.
"Now, they know the layout. Besides, this will prove their loyalty," said Mance. "If they get cold feet, you may kill them as you see fit."
"So, am I going to do it?" Fafnir asked Jon that night.
"Do what?" asked Jon.
"You know," said Fafnir. "Slaughter the whole wildling race."
"WHAT? No, we're not doing that!"
"Huh? Oh, that's right. I'm killing Crows now," said Fafnir.
"You're not..." Jon started, then sighed. "Look, this is an intelligence mission. If you go full dragon, then..."
"Then no more wildling problem," said Fafnir.
"But!"
"No more Crow problem? Or should I just tear down that Wall?"
"Look, Fafnir, I'm not sure what I want, okay?" Jon snapped.
Fafnir laid down. "Well, figure it out, will ya? You promised me blood."
"I know," said Jon. "I forget you're a bloodthirsty dragon sometimes."
"I'm only here to help," said Fafnir.
"You said you were here to gather gold," laughed Jon.
"Well, then you promised me blood. I like blood too," said Fafnir. "But, if I'm being honest, I like you too. I'll await your orders, Lord Maid Snow."
"I can't even tell when you're joking or not," said Jon.
Fafnir looked him dead in the eyes. "You know nothing, Jon Snow."
Jon turned red, buried his head in his blankets, and tried to sleep, but all he could think about was Ygritte.
