Peace talks
Robb POV
To persuade Mance Rayder, the leader of the Wildlings, to agree to a peace agreement, I would need to offer compelling incentives that align with the Wildlings' interests and address their concerns. I knew that much, but firstly, I had to make Mance Rayder agree to talk with me. So, I had no choice but to surround Hardhome from the sea and the ground to show my power.
Uncle Benjen was chosen as a messenger. I didn't think the wildlings would kill him, but I was still worried. Many things could go wrong, and there was no way for me to prepare for them. If the peace talks don't work, I will have to think of a way to defeat them, which would be almost impossible. The only choice would be to sail back to our home and leave them be.
"My lord, Benjen Stark is returning," Ser Waymar said.
I turned my head from the walls of Hardhome and looked at the approaching rider. At least he wasn't killed on sight. My worries lessened a bit with Benjen riding up to us. From his expression, I could tell that Benjen didn't receive the warmest of welcomes, but that was expected. I kept silent and waited for Benjen to speak first.
"Mance Rayder has agreed to meet you, Robb," Benjen said. "But you are to come alone."
"What nonsense is that?" Lord Umber asked. "Do they take us for fools?"
"Do they not take us seriously?" Lord Karstark asked more calmly than Lord Umber.
"It seems it is the end of our campaign," Lady Mormont commented. "They know we wouldn't agree to such absurd demand."
"I agree."
"My lord!" Everyone turned to stare at me.
"It is a foolish notion. If the wildlings wanted to talk with us, they wouldn't demand such a thing," Lord Commander said. "If you go alone, they will take you hostage and demand more from us."
"Maybe, but if there is no way to hear them out, what choice do we have?" I asked.
"Leave," Lord Umber answered. "Let them all die. They have made their choice."
"Mance Rayder might have made his decision, but I don't think everyone would agree with him," I replied. "If I don't return by sunset, leave for home."
"What?" Lord Karstark asked. "And let you die, my lord? I will not dishonor my house like that."
"They will not kill me," I said. "If they want to survive, they will keep me hostage."
"And that is better in what way?" Benjen asked.
"It would mean they are willing to make a deal," I answered. "Our mission is before our eyes. The wildlings will know more about the White Walkers than anyone else in the seven kingdoms. We need that information, and they need us to survive."
"There is no talking you back, my lord?" Lady Mormont asked.
"If something will happen to me, Bran Stark is my heir, and I name Edmure Tully, regent of the North till Bran is of the age," I proclaimed. "That is my decree."
With those words, I rode before my lords and into Hardhome. Common sense dictated that I shouldn't do this, but even if Mance Rayder decided to die, I couldn't let the rest meet the same fate. How many children and women were in Hardhome? If I didn't try to save them, I would regret it for the rest of my life.
…
Grey Wind followed me to the gates of Hardhome. Turning back, I could see my men not far preparing to strike at any moment, even when I told them otherwise. The gates opened to reveal a group of wildlings. A man with boiled leather armor covered in loosely tied bones stood before me. He looked at Grey Wind with distaste.
"The wolf stays outside," He said.
"I see. Then tell your King that the wolf will return home and leave you all to die," I replied before turning my horse back to my men.
"Wait," A woman with freckles and red hair stopped me. "The beast can come, but if he harms us, we will kill it."
I nodded and followed them. I didn't miss that the woman said they would kill Grey Wind but not me. It seemed they had no intention to harm me. That was good as I saw giants. Three times taller than a man. Their arms were like logs. I could tell that taking on a swing from their club would crush anyone to paste. And mammoths with them would scare our horses before we could get close to them.
"Is the lord of Winterfell scared of us yet?" The red-haired woman asked as she noticed me staring at the giants.
"I faced death itself," I replied. "As long as they don't have cold blue eyes, I am not concerned with them."
I could tell that my words made them uncomfortable. The man in bones turned sharply at me while the woman shuddered at the thought of the dead. I could tell they had faced the dead, too. But I had already suspected it, and it only confirmed it. Still, this information gives me another leverage to play with Mance Rayder.
"We are here," The man in the bones said as we reached an average house.
I climbed down my horse and ordered Grey Wind to stay. I didn't want them to feel any more uneasy. The wildlings were already tense. Any more, and they might snap. I needed to thread carefully but still hold my strength. I had to remember they needed me more than I needed them. Mance Rayder knew that, too.
Entering the house, I was met with two men. The first man was eating a goat leg, and as he turned to look at me, I saw that he had white hair and a beard. His chest was broad, and his belly was big. He wore black chainmail and golden bands. But my attention was on the other man—a thin man with broad shoulders and greying brown hair.
"You don't look like a Stark," The white-haired man commented.
"And you don't look like a King Beyond the Wall," I replied.
"Har!" The white-haired man's laughter was powerful.
"You might not look like a Stark, but I recognize that sword on your back," The grey-haired man said. "Ice, I wonder how many of us, free folk, did that sword execute."
"Over the hundreds of years, it belonged to my family? Hundreds, I reckon, if not thousands," I replied. "And at least a few kings, too. But it is never too late to add another to the list."
"Your words are witty, but your decisions are foolish," The grey-haired man said. "To meet the King Beyond the Wall on your own was a foolish thing to do."
"To demand Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, to meet you alone was foolish," I replied. "But I had to meet the fool, and it seemed I had no choice but to be one too, to do so. And there I am, before you, Mance Rayder."
"Here you are, Lord of Winterfell," Mance Rayder said.
"I came to accept your surrender," I replied.
"Har!" The white-haired man's laughter boomed. "Surrender? I saw your army, boy. Your men are tired and cold. Their little hands can barely hold a sword. Do you think we would surrender because you asked nicely?"
"To us? No," I replied. "We can board our ships and leave at any point. But it isn't us you are worried about. There is a reason why you are gathered in Hardhome and are building boats. Am I wrong?"
"Have you met them?" Mance Rayder asked.
"I have killed them," I replied. "They came at night, covered by the snowfall."
"Killed them?" The white-haired man asked. "Nonsense, they can't be killed. Fire won't burn them. Blades won't cut them. They are death itself. Pale as snow, they move like ghosts. Even I, Tormund Giantsbane, had to run from them."
"You couldn't kill them, Tormund, because you didn't have the right weapons," I told him. "You recognize the sword on my back, Mance Rayder. Can you tell what it is made of?"
"Valyrian Steel," Mance Rayder answered.
"Forged by dragon fire," I added. "It cut through the ghosts like they were made of snow."
"So, you have a weapon that can kill them?" Tormund asked as his eyes shone. "Tell me why I shouldn't take it."
"Because you would lose your head before trying," I answered. "You invited me to see you because you wanted to tell me something. Or was it to threaten me? Because it didn't work."
"Very well, you want to hear our demands? I will tell you them," Mance Rayder said. "Firstly, we want a safe passage through the Wall."
"It will be provided," I agreed.
"Yes, that would be expected," Mance Rayder said. "But at what price?"
"Listen," I responded by stepping closer, but Tormund stood up and blocked my path. "I know what you want the most. Freedom."
"Yes, we are no kneelers," Tormund agreed.
"That's why we won't gain anything from you, Lord of Winterfell," Mance added. "You will want us to sacrifice it. You will want us to kneel and pledge our servitude to you and your king."
"We both know you must give up some things to gain safety," I replied. "I could have let you all die, but I came before you because I know this Winter brings dangers no one alive has ever faced. You might value your freedom more than your life, but what about the others? If I ask every woman and child if he wants to live in my lands in exchange for their meaningless freedom, what kind of answer do you think they will give?"
"Our freedom isn't meaningless," Tormund answered. "It is our pride."
"And will that pride protect you from death? Will it shelter you from the Winter? Will it feed you?"
"It might not," Mance answered. "But we have more trust in our pride than in your promises. We are hated in your lands. Even if we get lands, we would be harassed by your people. And who would complain to you? Will you take our words before your people's words?"
"And what is your plan?" I asked. "Try to row around Eastwatch? And where will you go from there? You will be hunted in Westeros. In Essos, you will be sold to slavery. I am giving you a chance to live, and I am sure proud and hard people like you can handle few insults, can't you?"
"We will fight for the chance to live as free men," Tormund answered. "We don't need your pity, Lord of Winterfell."
"I am Warden of the North. I am responsible for fighting against those who wish to harm my people," I replied. "You will have to fight against me, Tormund Giantsbane."
"I like my chances," Tormund smiled at me.
"Mance!" A woman with red hair barged in before we could say more words. "A storm is coming."
"A storm?" I asked.
"The dead," Mance replied. "Where they go, the storm follows."
"Varamyr says It will come tonight," The woman said.
"It seems our talks have ended, Lord of Winterfell," Mance said. "But I am afraid I can't let you leave."
"I am not afraid for my life, Mance," His words didn't surprise me. "I am afraid for my men's lives and your people. I will give you lands, and you must pledge in your name that you won't harm my people."
"And you will take our children to hold the pledge," Mance said.
"Yes," I confessed. "The lords will demand hostages. But we will take care of them. They will be taught, fed, and protected."
"We can't trust your words," Mance disagreed. "We are not your people."
"Then I will make you my people," I replied. "I will marry one of your women, pledging in my name and honor to protect you from all harm."
"It still isn't," I interrupted before Mance could finish his words.
"The dead are coming, Mance. I have weapons to fight them and ships to retreat. Forget your pride and think of your people. For once we leave, we shall never return."
Mance looked at me and then at Tormund and the red-haired woman. The night would come soon, and he didn't have much time to think it over. I have pushed him into the corner. And even if I didn't wish to bargain their lives, I had no choice. I didn't want dead giants with blue eyes to roam my lands. And to give another hundred thousand men to the dead army.
A.N. Sorry for those who want to come back to Edmure. I will return to him after one more chapter. It took longer to write this part than I expected.
And as always, If you want more, up to seven advanced chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852, and now I will take requests from my patrons. More info on my .