Chapter 6 –

The True North

The fire crackled brightly in the center of the tent. The embers from the burning wood illuminated the inside as Tormund Giantsbane watched his guests intently.

They were seated on the barrels around the fire. The deer his guests had brought with them was roasting on skewers above the fire.

The Witch's magic was keeping the wight imprisoned outside, but he had his son, Toregg, and a few men stand guard anyway should it break loose.

"I think, introductions are in order crow." He finally said once he poured goat's milk and Brennivín for his guests. It was as good a starting point as any.

"Former Crow." Mance sighed irritably, taking a sip of the Brennivín but relented nonetheless. "As for my companions. The head is Mimir."

"Why is he just a head anyway?" Tormund cut in. His curiosity visibly shone in his eyes. "How does he talk? I don't think I would be able to live like that. I'd miss my pecker."

"Aye, that is one thing to miss I suppose." Mimir chuckled "But, well I was a prisoner. The only way to free me was well…. This. A pleasant experience for all parties involved I assure you. As for the way I can talk, well you have Lady Freya to thank for that."

"The tall, bald, and brooding one, whose hips I have the pleasure to dangle off of, is called Kratos." Mimir continued, "And the delightful lady beside him is the lady Freya."

"Lady?" Tormund questioned. "You expect us to kneel to you? The witch is royalty? Are you royalty, My Lady?" He asked mockingly.

"I was royalty, and in a way, I still am," Freya replied, uncaring of his mockery.

"But I do not expect people to kneel to me. Not unless they have wronged me, then I will make them Kneel in battle." She continued; the threat evident in her words.

"A true soul of the North then." Tormund laughed. "And what do all of you have to do with the wight?"

"The others. They are getting stronger. Never before have they attacked a village so far away from the Frost Fangs." Mance said. "They stayed to the sacrifices that cunts like Craster down south would give them. But now, they grow more brazen. We are not safe. I would unite the free folk and prepare us to fight or go south. Either is fine by me. The wight my friends have captured is proof enough of that."

"You would be King o' the free folk?" Tormund said, his back straightening, losing the jesting attitude he had put on. "No one will follow you. And even if they did, you will die. Just like all the others who tried to go south o' the wall."

"Then I issue you a challenge. We fight." Mance declared. "I will beat you, I will become chief. I will fight each and every chief there is to fight. Rattleshirt, Harma, You. I will do what is necessary for the survival of mankind itself."

"Oh, boy" Mimir whispered nervously, watching the two men stare each other down. "Brother, I think you should …"

"No." Kratos cut him off, and Mimir sighed.

"You have balls, I will give you that," Tormund said finally, "Very well. But know this, I will not hesitate to cut your head off. You shall have your fight."

He gathered his axe from the stand and made his way out of the tent as Mance followed, sparing the Gods one final glance.

"Why did you not intervene brother?" Mimir asked.

"We are not of this land. Neither are we mortals like them. It will do them no good to have us lead them unless a cruel god is the enemy they face." Kratos replied, preparing to leave the tent as well.

"He is right. Preparing to fight an enemy we know little about, by uniting a people we know little of, is not the right action to take." Freya added.

Kratos grunted "We will help them in our own way. We will head to the lands of always winter, and look for the source of the power behind the white walker, and their motivations."

Mimir hummed in thought "If I was a betting man, I would think that the equivalent of Hel in this land is either overworked or has a vendetta of her own. If that should be the case, brother. What will you do?"

If this question had been asked of the Kratos before Ragnarök, he would have replied "It is not our problem. We do nothing." Kratos wanted to say exactly that now.

'A problem doesn't have to reach our doorstep for it to be our responsibility. If we have the power to limit the harm it would cause, we should act. Who are we to hide and do nothing?' Faye's voice echoed in his mind.

'Open your heart.' Atreus repeated to him, his voice an ever-present guide to him.

"I will do what is necessary." He replied with finality. "We do not concern ourselves with what might be. For now, we will focus on what is."

"Very well then," Mimir said.

They exited the tent and saw that the people of the settlement had gathered around forming a crowd around the two combatants.

"What weapon are you going to use?" Tormund laughed. "Your sword has no blade in it!"

Procuring a small dagger from his belt, Mance replied "I don't need a sword for this."

"Bold." Tormund commented, drawing his axe "or bravado. You will die either way."

Kratos and Freya walked through the crowd, which seemed to part for them when they noticed Kratos' towering presence.

They watched as the two fighters circled one another waiting for an opportunity. Tormund seemed to have found it first, as he swung his axe straight at Mance's open neck staying out of the stabbing range from Mance.

Mance ducked the oncoming blow, but took a few steps toward his opponent and slashed at Tormund's gut, who recoiled just before the dagger could slice through his furs, but Mance was quick in closing the gap once again not giving Tormund time to swing back his axe aiming at the blade of the dagger at his skull.

Tormund having no choice but to use his arms to defend himself from the fatal blow, dropped his axe and grabbed the swiftly approaching arm by the wrist, with one of his hands in a strong grip, his other hand now strongly clutching Mance's shoulder.

He did not expect Mance to drop the dagger from his grip into his other hand which was waiting by his waist. This gave Mance enough time to place the Dagger just between his opponent's leg.

Knowing that he had his opponent dead to rights, Mance shouted "Yield!"

Tormund did not move for a few moments, as he stared bewildered at his opponents before he burst into laughter.

"Aye! I yield. I love my pecker and jewels too damn much not to." He laughed.

The gathered crowd started cheering wildly, having enjoyed the show that they had been given.

"Well, that seemed a bit straightforward," Mimir commented.

"It is their way," Freya said, as she watched the gathered men and women make merry around their new chief, apparently everyone had forgotten the captured wight, imprisoned a few hundred feet away from them. "They follow the strong willingly. They have already chosen Mance to lead them. If I or Kratos were to head there, and defeat him in combat, they would follow us."

"Aye, but we do not kneel," Tormund said, having heard the tail end of the conversation, as both he and Mance had joined them after separating from the merry-making people around the camp. "I had expected a fight today. But I was expecting it with the big one, Kratos."

Kratos grunted and said, "I do not wish to lead. My path is elsewhere."

"I think, I would like to know what you plan to do." Mance said "Do you still wish to go to the lands of Always Winter?"

"Yes, that is where the white walkers come from. I would know more about them." He replied.

"I don't think I will be able to turn you away from your goal, so I won't even try." Mance sighed. "Okay, follow me to my tent. I will at least give you the supplies and aid I can to help you on your journey. But, I have one request."

Kratos eyed him for a moment. "Speak." He commanded.

"I know you have the strength to beat the others. If it is possible, bring one alive back to me. I would like to know what can be done to harm them. Nothing apart from the weapons you have used worked that night, and we don't know what materials your weapons are made of, so a live walker to test everything we have will be our best option."

"I make no promises," Kratos said as he followed him to his new tent. Freya and Tormund behind him.

As they reached the tent, Mance decided to ask the question that had been bugging him for a while.

"You're not of these lands, are you?" He said as he started gathering some supplies, and food for his friends to carry.

"No, we are not," Kratos replied. "We are from Midgard. You would not know of it."

"And how did you come to be here?" He prodded further.

"We traveled," Kratos replied, giving a non-answer.

Mance sighed "You know what? Never mind. I am not going to try."

Mimir and Freya snickered softly, as Mance began giving them the rough directions to take to cross the Frost Fangs.

ჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲჲ

A/N: Finally heading to the Land of Always Winter. Kratos is not the king beyond the wall, yet. There is still much to do, for him to get there if I take the fic that way, that is.

Please leave a review, and let me know if I should increase the word count per chapter. I can do 2.5k words a chapter, currently its at 1.5k to 1.7k. If you think a longer chapter will work better, let me know.