Chapter 21
"I demand you to release my men right now, foreigner!"
Although being an ambassador was often an exciting and varied job, there were times when it wasn't all that great. For example, when an irate Mediaeval Lord was shouting in your face.
"As I explained earlier, Lord Glover, our laws do not permit us to do that. The man attacked our citizens on German soil, and are hence being tried under German law. Without an extradition treaty between our nations, there's not much I can arrange."
"German soil?! Those lands are part of the North! Lord Stark is the only one who could rightfully judge my man for their supposed transgressions!" Galbart Glover answered furiously.
In response, Patrik showed a copy of the contract that specified the transfer of the southern Stony Shore, clearly signed by Lord Stark.
"As you can read here, the contract clearly states that starting the 21st day of the 4th moon, the relevant part of the southern Stony Shore became a German territory. This imposes our laws on this region, with certain exceptions for the native inhabitants, none of which apply here."
"Like I would believe that forged piece of parchment! Keep that trash, I'll be having a word with Lord Stark and your cursed realm will pay for this insult!"
After lord Glover left, Patrik gave a sigh of relief. For a moment, he thought that the man would draw his sword and attack him. However, hopefully, Lord Stark would dissuade him from any drastic action.
Besides, it looked like most of the soldiers wouldn't even see a trial after all, given that they had no choice but to follow their orders. After all, this was no Germany, where it was allowed and even expected for soldiers to disobey immoral orders. However, for their leader, it was another story. He had, against his own orders, ordered an attack on innocent civilians with intent to kill. Even though the attack had failed miserably, some of the victims were quite shaken.
A knock on the door of his makeshift embassy woke Patrik from his musings.
"Come on in!"
As the door opened to reveal the musician, Patrick's mood lifted a bit. The two previous conversations he had with the man had been very enlightening, far more than most conversations with the local Lords. The man had been genuinely interested in Germany's people, culture, history and of course the music of Patrick's world.
"Good evening Abel."
"Likewise, Ambassador." The man answered in a friendly tone.
"I have something for you, the Americans were so kind as to carry it here during their visit." Patrik said as he reached for said items.
It said something about Abel that his eyes only widened for a moment when Patrik dropped the small stack of sheet music and accompanying lyrics in front of him.
"Although almost none our people use the lute anymore, it was quite a popular instrument a few hundred years ago. Hence, I've asked my colleagues to send me a copy of some collections of English lute songs from those times. I also imagine the Westerosi would appreciate the accompanying lyrics more than our Modern songs."
"You're not wrong, Ambassador. I couldn't make sense of most of them, though I have to agree the accompanying music from your magical contraption was excellent. Anyways, thank you for this gift, I promise it will be treasured."
"Was there anything you wanted to ask me, Abel, or was this a social visit."
"Actually, there is something, though I must know something else first. Can you promise to keep what I'm going to ask you a secret? Especially from the King and the Starks?"
Patrik thought for a second before answering:
"While I can promise the latter, I will have to inform my superiors if your information might impact Germany in any way."
"That's enough for me. So, what do you know about the people living North of the wall?"
Patrik had not expected such a question, but gave his honest answer:
"Almost nothing, to be honest. Our flying machines have not yet flown beyond that marvelous structure, and no contact has been made with the people there. We only have hearsay from the people in the North, who see them as barbarians, though they might be biased." Patrik said diplomatically.
The people on the Stony Shore hated the so-called wildlings with a passion that was only overshadowed by their hatred of the Ironborn. They talked about rare raids where those Wildlings would loot all their valuables, steal their woman, and burn down what was left.
"In that case, let me tell you about them. The Free Folk, as they call themselves, are not a unified people, but split into countless tribes, clans, warbands and villages. Some of them, like Alfyn Crowkiller's or Harma Dogshead's warbands, do indeed regularly scale the wall to raid the north. However, most of the groups, like the Thenns or Mother Mole's clan, are just living their lives in peace beyond the wall. The one thing that unifies them is desire for freedom, and their contempt for people who let themselves be ruled by lords and kings."
The Free Folk being so divided made a lot of sense if the lands north of the wall were even a fraction of the size of the Seven Kingdoms. In fact, Patrik was still flabbergasted that the Seven Kingdoms had not balkanized immediately after its inception, given its continental size, distinct cultures, religions and climates, as well as its medieval level of technology.
"Winters are very harsh north of the wall. Even in a short winter, many infants and elderly die. Now, we've had the longest summer in living memory, and everyone knows that after a long summer, a harsh winter will follow. However, this winter brings something far worse. After years of slumber, the Others have returned, bringing their armies of the dead."
Patrik had to put in effort to keep his face unmoved. Zombies, seriously?
However, as Patrik looked into Abel's eyes, he saw that the man was completely serious.
"I don't expect you to believe me. However, whether it's true doesn't matter. The Free Folk believe the Others are coming, and are desperate to go south, behind the relative safety of the wall. Somehow, I don't believe the Seven Kingdoms will welcome them."
Patrick started to have an idea of where this conversation was going, and didn't like it one bit.
"Where did you hear all of that, Abel? Your tale of zombies seems somewhat farfetched."
"Zombies? I've never heard of that word."
"My bad, I meant the walking dead. Zombies is what people from my world call them."
"You already know about them?" Abel asked, surprise clear on his face.
"There're many stories where zombies appear, though they do not actually exist. At least not on our world." Patrick added as an afterthought, even though he was convinced zombies couldn't exist at all.
"Well, Wights are certainly real. This is not the first time the Others have come, though it has been some centuries since the long night. In any case, the reason I know about them is because I came from beyond the wall. I was born there, and have lived among the Free Folk for the last few years. I've seen the empty villages and heard the stories from the few survivors. And tomorrow, I will return there. If Lord Stark knew I was part of the Free Folk, I wouldn't leave this castle alive."
It dawned on Patrick how much risk the man had taken by telling him this. Though he was confused about one thing.
"Doesn't guest right prevent Lord Stark from harming you?"
"Oh, he won't dare to harm me while I'm enjoying guest right. He will instead give me a small gift, throw me out of his keep, and hunt me down after giving me a small head start."
"I could see that happen." Patrik said, knowing the hatred the Northman had against the Wildings, who apparently named their selves the Free Folk. "In any case, Abel, while I appreciate you trusting me with your sensitive information, I cannot help but wonder what you want me and my country to do with this."
"My hope is that your realm might offer another option to the Free Folk. Who now have to choose between dying and invading the North. Your realm does not have kings or lords, but seems to be ruled by laws and its own people. I imagine that many of the more peaceful tribes might prefer that over the other choices, and it would save many of their lives."
This was exactly what Patrick had been afraid of. Yet another refugee crisis. Even worse, these people came from an medieval society even less developed than the Seven Kingdoms and would have a far harder time acclimating to the German culture than the Syrian refugees. Yet, he knew Germany could not leave them to their fate, whether that would be dying from starvation, cold, or a hopeless invasion of the North.
"While I cannot promise anything, I will forward this to my superiors."
"That's all I can ask for."
Following that, the conversation turned to lighter matters. At some point, they arrived at the events of this afternoon.
"So, America is the most powerful empire on your world, and they are Germany's allies?"
"Yes, that is true. We have a military alliance with them, as well as with the United Kingdom."
"Does that mean you pay tribute to the United States so that they provide protection for your realm?"
"No, nothing of that sort. The NATO alliance is a treaty of mutual defense, where an attack on one is an attack on all."
In fact, Patrik mused, it was almost the opposite. The US was spending far more on its military than Germany and the other EU member states.
"Fascinating." Abel muttered. "In any case, ambassador, do you know what the envoys from the United States and the other realms have discussed with the King and Lord Stark? I'm curious what those far away realms might want from Westeros."
Patrik himself hadn't been at the meeting, though he knew what the Americans, English, Canadians and Australians had planned to do. As it wasn't exactly classified information, he answered Abel's question honestly.
"Their main goal was to start diplomatic relations with the Seven Kingdoms, and get permission to set up an embassy in the capital. Aside from that, they hoped to get permission for their companies and researchers to work in the Kingdom."
Although the Americans had publically disapproved of the purchase of the southern Stony Shore, they had been quick to acquire a site in those lands to build a naval base. Similarily, after Patrik managed to arrange a meeting between three German mining companies and ser Helman Tallhart for surveying and mining his lands, the Americans immediately used the meeting today to arrange comparable deals.
"Wasn't a company some sort of trade guild?"
"Oh yes, my apologies. Though, our world's companies are somewhat different from guilds. For instance, …"
Eventually, their talk came to an end and Patrik had to say goodbye to the musician. After wishing Abel luck on his long journey, Patrik moved to inform his superiors on the possible refugee crisis.
AN: The Winter Portal now has almost 1000 followers! In order to celebrate, I want to give you readers the chance to suggest a PoV for the next interlude. This can be either an existing ASOIAF character, a PoV from our world, or a POV from a Northern commoner. The only restrictions are that the character is not a mastermind plotter like Varys or Baelish, not someone very high up in our government (minister/president etc), and someone who could reasonably have gotten news of the Portal's existence within 2-3 weeks (so no Daenerys). Explanations for why you want to see that PoV specifically are also welcome.
I have also edited chapter 5. It's dialogue is now better, and a few extra lines are added (although it is still by far the smallest chapter). Check it out if you don't mind a reread!