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Chapter 8
Out of schedule, but I had to.
Been a while? Well. . . yeah, let's not prolong this more than it needs to. Let's get to reading!
You Can Hear The Thrums Of Magic And Curses of The Night; But Also The Hums Of Nuclear Power And Burning Cordite!
Chapter Eight: Regrets And Arrangements
"Fancy meeting you here, lass," Tormund said. "I'll be honest with ye', we're not exactly in a good situation at the moment." He shuffled in his bindings for good measure in an almost sarcastic fashion.
If things weren't so deep in shit, Ygritte might've even smiled at the foolish joke. "What did they do to you?" she asked, wondering if it was anything like earlier with that red bitch. 'I'm going to kill her the first chance I get.' Surviving after would be convenient, but there was nothing convenient here.
Tormund shrugged, bound in a kind of bed that had him stand, cloth bindings hugging him close, making his arms go around himself, though the myriad of belts should've been more than enough. Though she had steel cuffs tying her to her seat, though she was still hesitant to do anything with this damn collar on her.
"Well, for one, I remember that fucker's knee hit my chin," he growled out, gesturing to the red bitch behind her, watching the two of them intently in front of a large mirror that nearly spanned the entire wall. "It fucking hurt, then the next moment I knew, I woke up in a bed with chains holding my arms." That sounded much better than what she went through. "Now I feel ling my jaw crack, but I only felt drunk when I woke up, no pain, no blood, nothing." Another thing to add on how these people were something else entirely. What kind of healing abilities do these people have? "That was a few days ago."
Ygritte narrowed her eyes. "I woke up only yesterday." From boot slamming onto her face to being woken up by a bucket of water, questions, and pain that coursed through her body. Even after the bitch had her way, they threw her into a cell she couldn't leave. They gave her food and water, and it seemed like they tended to Tormund's injuries.
Now that she thought about it, she knew for a fucking fact her ribs were shattered before the red bitch knocked her out, but now felt little in terms of pain. Whoever these people were, they could be either demons or fucking wizards, neither being good.
Tormund snorted. "I must've had it easy, then." He looked to the woman behind her. "I'm going to kill you for what you did as soon as I get out, you know that, right?"
Now it was the woman's turn to snort. "Ey? Didn't work too well the first time, did it? Nor for the tossers you people were with," she said with a smirk that had Ygritte's blood boil. The red bitch then gestured to her. "Though your little friend here can fill you in on what happened."
Giantsbane and turned to her with a frown. "What happened to Barik and the others?"
She licked the inside of her teeth, trying to find the proper words to describe what happened, the massacre that fell upon them from the statues and woman both. Gods, it was hard to try making something from nothing.
"They're dead, Tormund," she finally said. "The red bitch killed Barik with a knife to his throat." Tormund's face soured further at the loss of one of his clansmen. "The others. . . I don't know how to describe." An idea came to mind, a memory. "They disappeared in an eruption of fire and smoke." That broken fool who came to camp. . . now she understood.
And it looked like Tormund realized that, too.
"Fuck." She couldn't have said it better herself. The bearded man breathed heavily and slowly, then turned to their captor. "Alright, the fuck do you want with us?" Ygritte internally cringed, remembering full well why she kept them alive, almost wished she'd have been killed instead, though that seems to be still possible. "You killed everyone but kept us breathing, I'll be damned if it wasn't for the goodness of your heart."
The woman chuckled cruelly and made her way to them, leaning onto the table between the two Freefolk. "Alright, Mr. Tormund, I'm pretty sure you can tell we aren't from around here," she said, drawing something from her hip, a kind of metallic tool, probably? Whatever it was, she stuck the end of it onto Tormund's forehead, and both of them stared at each other. "Like right now, I can blast a hole through your head and paint the wall behind you with your brain. Bang!" she shouted at the end, and drew away what was apparently some bizarre weapon and placed it back into its sheath. "Just like that, and just as easily."
Tormund, in a surprise even to Ygritte, laughed. "Are you as stupid as you look?" he finally said, wiping away that smile off of the woman's face. "I fucking know you people aren't from here. You sent in men made of metal to feed me after I nearly bit off one of your people's fingers. You have a massive wall made of steel." He gave another laugh. "You don't need some milksop theatr-" BAM! "-AGH!"
Ygritte yelped herself as a loud bark reverberated around the metal room, one of her ears was even ringing. She had to give her a second before she looked at Tormund, her stomach sunk at the sight of the blood running down the right side of his head.
"Ah, fuck!" he screamed as he tried wiggling out of his bonds. She almost breathed a sigh of relief to know he was alive, then took a closer look at where the blood was coming from. His upper cheek was bleeding from a deep cut that wasn't there before, and a chunk of his right ear was missing, and it was pouring out blood. "Seven fucking hells!"
"It seems you forgot who you're dealing with, you fuckwit." Ygritte turned to see the woman smirking, the weapon that was in its sheath now out and smoking from the hole at the end of it. "I'm the person responsible for blasting your little party into paste on the snow. You think I won't kill you now?"
She walked closer to Tormund, who was visibly staring at her with hot fury, the belts and cloths tying him into place being the only reason he hadn't jumped out to strangle the woman. When she got close enough, he roared and tried to jump onto her, but the bonds held and kept him back.
"Now, here's the thing," she said as she comfortably leaned on the table once more, ignoring the curses sent her way. "If you don't quiet down, the next one is going right between the eyes."
"Fuck you, whore!"
The woman sighed and drew her weapon once more. This time, though, she pointed it at Ygritte, and she thought she'd be forgiven for feeling a little panicked, though she refused to give the bitch the pleasure and made sure she snarled her way. Tormund, however, quieted down, seemingly more content on breathing angrily than shouting.
"There we go," the bitch said. "Let's start over, shall we?" She received no response, though the one that could've been made by Tormund would've been more from before.
The only door the room had opened, drawing the attention of the three of them, and in came another older woman, wearing greyish clothes, decorated with several emblems and symbols. Though perhaps one of the more interesting features was her dark skin, and how the red bitch sighed irritably and stood in the presence of the frowning woman.
"You've overstepped your boundaries, mercenary," the woman said.
"Colonel Bello," their captor greeted. "I was only trying to control the situation before things got out of hand." Her mocking and smug tone left her, and Ygritte couldn't help but think it was because she was addressing an elder or a superior of some form.
This Colonel Bello looked to Tormund, scowled, and turned back to the red bitch. "As far as I can see, it was you who went out of hand, Slone." If that was her name, then Slone looked less pleased with the response. "You are dismissed."
"Oi, this is my contract!" Slone shouted angrily.
"I said you're dismissed, Pilot!" When Slone was about to reply, Bello made sure it didn't come out of her mouth. "One more word, and you'll be dismissed from the project altogether." Slone bit her own tongue. "Am I understood?"
With clenched teeth, she said, "understood, ma'am." And stiffly left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Colonel sighed and massaged her temples, then turned to Tormund. "I apologize for Slone's actions, she is always heavy-handed in her methods." When she reached to press something on her wrist, Ygritte instinctively braced herself, but no pain came. "I need a medic sent to my position, one of the prisoners have been injured and is bleeding."
Surprisingly, the thing on her wrist responded. "Understood, ma'am, a medic will be there shortly." And then it clicked into silence. What in all the hells were these people?
"My name is Asha Bello," she introduced warmly. "I hold the rank of Colonel around here, and I was assigned as the head of the ground expedition force of the IMC, and we need your assistance."
What crazy world have they entered? "You need our assistance?" Ygritte seethed. "You killed the people were with, tortured me for answers, and you ask us for help!?"
All the woman did was nod calmly. "What you went though could hardly be called torture, though I do understand and I'm sorry for your losses, but I must point out that your people were the ones who attacked us first, we had to defend ourselves."
"Is that what you call it, defending yourself?" They had walls of steel, and somehow destroyed the group that they came in with.
"We interacted with your people before, sent an envoy with food, water, and shelter to one of the Freefolk camps in hopes to build a relationship." Her tone went angry. "They killed our envoys, stole the goods, and attempted to raid our outpost to steal and rape. We didn't allow them, and we refuse to allow for that same mistake again."
Annoyingly, Ygritte couldn't really refute what she said. Many of her people would do what she experienced, and even more irritatingly, could understand why they responded to their scout party with the slaughter.
"The party you came in with, we weren't sure if you would have reported back to your village and brought back a raiding party, or you were simply curious wanderers, we couldn't take the risk." The door opened once more, and in came a man with a pack, one that held a red cross in a white circle. "That's the medic, though in your terms he'd be a healer." She narrowed her eyes on Tormund. "I trust you'd allow him to treat your injury with little trouble."
Tormund held her gaze for a few seconds, then grunted and turned to the side for the 'medic' to have a better view. The man nodded and approached calmly, and started his work. Opening his pack, he brought out several bottles and even smaller packs filled with cloth and bandages.
"What do you want with us?" Giantsbane asked as the healer began cleaning the blood.
"We need your help in guiding a scouting party up north. As the only ones we can count as professionals in the area, we are turning to you for help as guides."
"And who is this 'we' that is asking this from us?"
"We're the IMC," she said, and she didn't even wait for them to ask. "We're an organization of very advanced means, as I'm sure you can tell." That was putting it fucking lightly. "The IMC is a sort of merchant guild, so to speak, a very damn wealthy one that regularly hires specialists like Slone, powerful people who can take down groups alone."
"With all that, with all the damn magic you people can do, the metal men, the bottles of light, the fucking weapons that can make holes in people, and you still need our help?"
"You would be correct."
Tormund scowled, likely thinking the same thing Ygritte said yesterday to that Slone woman. "What you're asking for is fucking impossible." He winced when the medic applied some sort of salve. "The White Walkers roam that side of the north, their army of the dead with them wherever they go."
"I said the same to that Slone bitch," Ygritte added with a scowl. "I told her no Freefolk with half a mind is willing to go back to what we're escaping from."
Bello hummed. "I understand your concerns, but we still must venture north on an expedition, White Walkers or not," she said. "However, the higherups are those who demand results and will take action to mitigate risk should the result be lucrative." She gestured to the two of them. "And that's what you two and your people are."
Tormund, in an almost ironic manner, chuckled but hissed when the healer began to stitch the wounds. "So, you don't just want us, but our people as a whole, is that it?" he said, smothering down a grunt as the suturing began on his upper cheek. "And they call me fucking crazy."
"The IMC will compensate you and your people for their efforts." She shrugged. "Whatever it is you need. Gold? Jewels? Infinite supply of food? The IMC has the means to give you anything you need."
Giantsbane almost chuckled at that as well, but instead hissed as the needle stabbed him again. "Gold and jewels? You think us some pompous little milk-drinkers from the south? You can take those and shove them up your ass. As for the food, won't be much good to us when we're dead and become an army for the White Walkers."
"So the problem is these White Walkers of yours?"
The healer made his final stitch and cut the thread he was using, then he bandaged it with some pure white cloth and stuck it to his ear and cheek. He looked to Bello and left when he got his nod.
"Better?" she asked.
Tormund stretched his jaw and neck to test the healer's work, barely wincing at his treated wounds. "It'll do," he answered, then shifted to glare at Bello. "And yes, I'd fucking say the White Walkers are the big fucking problem."
"Then how about we remove them from the equation?"
"What now?"
Bello rolled her eyes. "How about we make sure they're not a problem?"
Ygritte laughed, which brought the attention of Colonel to her. "The White Walkers can't be killed. Believe me, we tried," she said. "Our swords, arrows, and axes shatter like glass as soon as they touch them. No normal weapon can kill them. As for the wights?" She scowled. "You can slice them, spear them, fucking dismember them, but they'll still keep coming, the only way to kill one is with fire."
All the older woman did was nod in understanding. "Fortunately, we have many weapons in our arsenal to deal with wights, then." Her statement was vague, making Ygritte unsure of what she even meant. "As for the White Walkers themselves, I'm certain we can deal with them."
"You're either deaf or just plain stupid," she responded angrily. "Nothing can kill them."
Bello didn't look impressed. "Do you think we're normal people?" Ygritte didn't answer, though it seemed to be an answer of its own. "The weapon injured Tormund is called a gun. It's a standard issue weapon that launches small metal arrows called bullets that travel five times the speed of an arrow."
Ygritte would have called her insane, but she saw it herself how that Slone woman brought that 'gun' up, and essentially created a bleeding hole of Tormund's ear. She gulped. Maybe she's right, these people were demons.
"What's more," Bello continued. "We have larger versions of said gun that fire larger bullets at a much faster speed for our foot soldiers, and massive ones that turns groups of enemies into dust-" She snapped her fingers. "-like that. I'm sure the young woman here knows what I speak of." Ygritte did, by the gods she did. "Perhaps you're right, maybe these White Walkers are immortal even to our weapons." She leaned onto the table, and looked between the two Freefolk with a face full of determination. "But if anyone has the ability to kill them, it's the IMC. If we don't, then we will develop a way, I can promise you that." She stood back up straight. "Your best bet in fighting these things is us, and we're not willing to do it for free. Help us, and we'll help you in turn." She nodded to them. "I will leave you to talk it out, and come back in a few minutes." And made her way to leave.
When the door shut behind her, Ygritte only had one word to say. "Fuck."
Slone watched the through the one-way mirror as Colonel Bello left the interrogation room, leaving the two in silence as they deliberated within their heads on her words. She had to admit, that woman had a way with words and effective dramatic theatre. The door to the room opened, and in came the colonel herself, looking a little smug about the whole thing.
"Think they bought into it?" Slone asked, looking back to their prisoners.
"Absolutely," Colonel Bello answers, watching the same two with hands behind her back. "These White Walkers of theirs, they certainly talk like they've seen them." Slone gave her a queer glance, which had Bello scoff. "Don't give me that look, Pilot, I'm only telling you what I sensed from their tone."
Slone grunted. "Doesn't matter to me, as long as your plan worked in having them accept your 'helping hand', that is."
"They will. If these White Walkers are that big of a deal for them, whatever the hell it actually is, then after all they've seen, they'll know we're the best way to them dealt with." She scoffed again. "I thought your use of the pistol was too much, but it helped make things clearer for them."
Honestly, Slone was just pissed and shot the redheaded fucker to shut him up. All's well that ends well, she supposed. "So now we wait, but what if they don't ally with us, though?"
She shrugged. "Put a bullet in their heads."
"What're you thinking?" Tormund asked her.
Ygritte didn't know what to think. Fucking Mance and his scouting missions, she should've just let Tormund do it alone. "I think we're fucked if we do, and fucked if we don't." Tormund grunted in agreement.
They were alone for now, but she had a feeling the next time they had to have a proper answer. If they denied their offer, she had a feeling it was their last. At least that Colonel Bello woman was friendlier than that red bitch, but that didn't mean much, she wasn't the real leader here, perhaps something like an elder of sorts.
"Like she said, these people here are far from normal. At least, not the normal we know," Ygritte said. Hells, above them were some glass shafts that bathed the whole room in white light brighter than any torch. "Maybe. . ." Damn it. "Maybe they can do it." The words tasted sour in her mouth.
Tormund looked her oddly. "You mean kill the Walkers and their army of the dead?" She nodded. "They might." For some reason, that surprised her to know that the big, stubborn oaf agreed with her. He saw most of what she saw, and that was more than enough. "Fucking weapons that make holes in people's ears, and they've got bigger shit, as well, you say?" By the gods yes, they did, and it showed on her face. "Then yes, I think they can deal with those cold fuckers."
"But if we take the deal. . ."
"Then we'll have them to deal with instead," Tormund finished. "You're right, though call me insane, but I'd rather let one problem deal with the other than have two aimed at us." He shrugged, or something close to it with all the bindings holding him in place. "You'll have to be really convincing to make me believe these people are worse than an army of walking corpses trailing behind us to slit our throats." He sighed. "It's not up to us, though."
"Mance?" she asked, and he nodded.
"You think they're keeping us alive from the goodness of their hearts?" He spat to the side.
Thinking about it some more, Giantsbane had a point. "They want to use us to get Mance to help them."
"Aye, that's what I'd wager. Or at least an introduction and give him the same offer they gave us." He ground his teeth. "At this point, I don't know if we should take it or not?"
Ygritte felt as defeated as her elder. These people, the IMC, might have the capability to deal with the Others, but might be a problem on to themselves, it was just difficult to gauge how they can be worse? They didn't look like conquerors, they just want something and it isn't land, or at least, not yet.
"Let Mance decide," she finally said. "He's the one who makes these choices, not us. If they want to make a deal, let them do so when surrounded by an army of Freefolk at Hardhome."
He hummed, looking fairly convinced at the idea. "You're right about one thing, this is up to Mance." He stayed quiet for a few seconds longer. "I've been awake for a while, long enough to know for a fucking fact that this place is already surrounded by Mance and every Freefolk in Hardhome."
Her eyes widened in realization. "We didn't come back, they must've sent someone to know what happened." And then when they saw those black walls, brought back the army. "Then why are we here? Shouldn't they have tried raiding the pl-" No, they couldn't.
"If its like you said, they can't make it past the tree line," he growled out, thinking more on the subject. "And we're still alive is because they want us that way to. . ." His face scrunched for answers, before reaching some conclusion. "They want us to fucking calm things down. They don't want to fight us, they want to use us."
Fuck! If like he said, then the whole army is here, but there's nothing they can do. Mance would either leave them to the IMC but keep an eye on this place, or try for a full charge. No, he wasn't the type of man to dive headfirst, he's a patient man who'd wait things out. And if those Slone and Bello women were convinced enough to use them, some decisions were being made that are far from friendly.
"So we have two options," he continued. "They kill the both of us, leaving things as they are and likely lead to a war." Which means a massive amount of death with the weapons these people have, and the dead that will return only to become more of a problem. "Or we can take one of these fuckers to Mance, and have them hash things out."
"Tormund," she called, knowing his tone. "There's no way to know if these people could even help, they may as well be worse."
Of all things, he laughed sourly. "If they can help, then they kill the Others. If not, then the Others kill them. Fuck 'em both." He took a deep breath. "I know the decision I want to make, what about you?"
Damn him, Giantsbane, the giant oaf that he was, had a point. "Fuck, let's do it." She had no pleasure in agreeing to the idea, but at least it was something that could be done that didn't kill them just yet.
Mance was King-Beyond-The-Wall, it was his decision of what the allied tribes and clans would do. Him being a southernly lord at one point, he'll have a better idea of talking to these magic people than she could.
Almost too conveniently, the dark woman from before came back into the room, so much so that Ygritte knew they were listening in. Of all she'd seen, being able to hear them while not in the room didn't seem as mad.
"Have you made your decision yet?" the elder woman asked as she looked to the two of them.
"We have," Tormund said. "First off, you can fuck yourself, I know you heard us." Bello shrugged, not intending on hiding it. "Second, what deal you want to give, you take it to Mance Rayder, he's our king, he's the one who makes the decisions."
She looked a little confused. "I thought Freefolk have no king?"
"It's a special occasion," he said annoyed. "Is there an army of Freefolk out there?" She nodded uncaringly. "And you don't want to kill them?"
"I'd prefer not to. The IMC would rather have you as an ally than an enemy, less stress and pain that way." She raised her hands placatingly. "There are some who would rather kill them all, but so far cooler heads prevailed, though that could not be the case should there be no progress."
'Damn her,' Ygritte thought with grit teeth, playing with the choice of killing them or not like it was some play time. "Thirdly," she said, getting the attention on her. "Anyone who wants to talk with Mance comes alone." She gestured to Bello. "You."
The woman didn't look too happy and was about to respond, but she pressed her hand against her ear for a few seconds, then nodded to no one. "Understood," she finally said. "You two are to be my guides, however."
"Guides or guards?"
"Both. If you try anything that would endanger me or the IMC." She snapped her fingers. "The IMC wouldn't give a second thought in destroying your people here and in Hardhome all at once. I'm telling you what they told me." She tapped on some odd stone in her ear. "I can to them through this, and they talk to me."
Fucking hells these people.
The woman came around to Ygritte and reached for her neck. While she was tempted to bite the woman's fingers off, she waited, and watched as she gently took the collar of her with a small chirping sound.
"There," Bello said, taking that damned thing and throwing it onto the table. She looked to Tormund. "Your. . . situation needs a few more hands, but they are on their way to release you." He grunted, the closest thing she'd get for appreciation. Turning back to her, she gestured to her cuffed hands. "They'll come here soon to release you as well."
Ygritte didn't know what to feel about this. She wasn't as confident considering what these people can do, and they could just as easily betray the Mance and them. With all she'd seen, she told herself it was better if they had them on their side, but that didn't mean she'd trust them.
"My name's Asha Bello, by the way," she introduced herself again. "Since I'm gonna be under your protection, I thought you might as well know." Her tone was friendly, but it wasn't enough to sooth her mind.
Protection? Yeah, right. Still, she relented. "Name's Ygritte, and don't you fucking think we'll be easy enemies if we ever fought."
Bello smiled and shook her head. "The thought never crossed my mind."
I hate Battle Royale, but there's something about Apex Legends that I think is pretty cool. I've never been even attracted to Fortnite, PUBG, or Blackout, but something about Respawn's Apex keeps drawing me back. What can I say? I like the game.
Reviews, it's all I look forward to!