The one who makes the impossible possible
No matter how long Archer had lived, he had one certainty: he would never understand women.
These were Emiya's thoughts as he nursed his aching nose. The culprit of his discomfort, of course, was oblivious to his thoughts and suffering.
The girl should have been nervous, especially with numerous weapons pointed at her neck. Still, instead of trembling in fear, she stared down her assailants with a fiery gaze, matching her fiery hair.
"Let her go," Archer finally ordered, seeing that Mormont's men had no intention of lowering their weapons.
"But sir," one of the sailors weakly protested.
"She's not a danger to anyone, especially not to me," Archer said. Still, his words had little effect considering the state of his face.
"Lower them," Emiya repeated, finally getting the desired result.
"Start preparing the ship. I want to go home."
Feeling definitively dismissed, the men immediately got to work, leaving Archer alone with the two princesses. The title of "princess" might have been merely honorary, but that didn't change the fact that they were prominent figures among the wildlings.
This was an exceptional feat, considering their young age and the fact that the people beyond the Wall were almost entirely unfamiliar with the concept of nobility. Wildling society was simpler, and brutal in some aspects many would call it savage but it was honest. In their world, a man could only rely on his own strength to achieve something, and nothing was given to him, no matter how blue he claimed his blood was.
Knowing this, it was clear that the two girls weren't just beautiful. To achieve such a high status in their world, beauty could only help them to a point. Their real talent had to lie elsewhere.
What their field of expertise was remained a mystery for now. Without useful clues, Emiya couldn't deduce it, even with his abilities. In the end, it didn't matter; what counted was that these two were the keys to cooperation.
"Let's put this incident behind us and start over. I'm Jon Snow," Archer introduced himself, trying to ease the situation and establish some sort of calm.
"Val," introduced the blonde, showing herself to be the calmer and more rational of the two, understanding that in their situation, creating unnecessary conflicts driven by pride was useless.
"I don't tell my name to kneelers," the redhead remained stubborn and proud.
"I can assure you that in my entire life, I've never knelt before anyone, not even before fate," Archer said honestly, summing up in a few words what could have been the story of his life.
"You're good with words. But I don't believe you. You southern men are excellent liars," the redhead immediately dismissed his words, seeming to know well how men driven by power behaved.
"I'm an excellent liar, you're right about that. But I have no reason to lie to you in these circumstances," Archer replied, something all three of them were well aware of.
The wildlings might have outnumbered them, but not only were they composed mainly of women and children, but they were still in chains, completely at Archer and his men's mercy.
"You might try to take advantages that aren't yours to take," the redhead said with a sneer.
"You're already in chains. If I wanted to take advantage of you, I would have done so by now," Emiya replied calmly.
"Not to mention that I prefer my women a bit more grown up. I don't go for little girls," Archer added, deliberately ignoring the fact that the age of his current body might actually be younger than the two girls.
"Little girl? Little girl?" the red haired woman murmured incredulously, unable to believe she had been called that. From the tone of her voice, it was clear that Archer's words had offended her.
"While I find this courtship of yours very interesting, I'm more interested in knowing what your intentions are," the blonde woman interrupted, stopping what could have become a prolonged argument.
"Val!" growled the redhead, indignant, not approving of her friend's intervention.
"Enough, Ygritte. We don't have time for your usual games. If you still feel like it, you can continue later," Val told the now-identified Ygritte.
"We can't trust them, Val," Ygritte repeated her thesis.
"As the boy said, we have no choice. In these circumstances, it's better to be honest from the start," Val reasoned.
"Fine," Ygritte accepted, yielding to her companion's logic.
"What are your plans for us?" Val asked.
"I have no particular plans for you," Archer replied honestly.
"And yet we're your ransom, the prize you won from the ironborn," Ygritte said acidly, making Emiya chuckle at the way she referred to the ironmen.
"If you paid attention, you'd know I refused the Greyjoys' offer to treat you as merchandise, and that's why the fight started," Archer clarified.
"The fact remains that we are now at your mercy," Val pointed out.
"You're free to leave."
"To where?" Ygritte asked sarcastically, gesturing toward the vast blue expanse surrounding them.
"There's only sea around us, and we have no way of leaving this islet without a ship," Ygritte continued.
"That makes us, like it or not, at your mercy," Val concluded.
"What do you propose, then?" Emiya asked, realizing that the two intended to start some sort of negotiation.
"A ship would be ideal," Ygritte made her request.
"Impossible," Archer promptly refused.
"Even if I wanted to, we don't have any other ships besides the one we arrived on," the boy explained.
"In that case, we ask for safe passage," Val rephrased the proposal.
"That's certainly feasible," Emiya agreed this time.
"The question is whether you trust me enough to accept it," Archer revealed the real issue.
"Trust isn't necessary when there are common interests," Val said.
"So, you're proposing an exchange?" Archer asked, intrigued.
"Yes. In exchange for the promised passage, we'll give you something of even greater value once you take us home," Ygritte said.
"I see. That way, if I were to go back on my word, I would suffer a loss," Archer summarized, finding the girls' plan quite intelligent.
"Exactly."
"So, what are you offering?" Emiya asked, knowing that what they put on the table would be the cornerstone of their plan.
Hearing his question, the two women allowed themselves a moment to look into each other's eyes, as if agreeing on their next course of action.
"Us. Free our people, and we will willingly be your slaves," Ygritte began.
"We're also the most valuable. The value of two wildling princesses far exceeds that of all our people combined," continued Val.
The two women alternated while presenting their indecent proposal, one that many men would have accepted despite their best intentions, such was the level of their beauty.
But Emiya was not an ordinary man, and temptation didn't affect him in the slightest. His principles were too strong, and his resistance to beautiful women was too high. Instead, he felt only respect and anger in the face of their sacrifice.
"I refuse. As I said before, I'm not interested in little girls," the boy rejected their offer.
"If you don't want to keep us for yourself, sell us. The profit would be enormous," Val proposed once more, willing to do anything for the sake of her people.
"I don't want any payment. If you want a passage, I'll be glad to offer it but don't ever try to make me another offer like this again. The very idea of slavery disgusts me," Archer declared, surprising the two women who hadn't expected the boy to refuse their offer again.
"You seem sincere," Val said.
"And if it were only our lives at stake, I would be inclined to accept," admitted the blonde.
"But with the lives of our brothers and sisters at risk, we can't take that chance," the princess continued.
"Your words simply seem too good to be true," said Ygritte.
"With a profit involved, we could have some guarantee that you would keep your word, but without that, it's hard to believe you'd do it purely out of kindness," Ygritte remarked.
"If you don't want to believe I'm doing this out of kindness, let's come up with another agreement. I'm sure you can offer me something valuable in exchange for my help," Archer suggested, not at all surprised by the fact that the girls had refused his offer. It had happened before.
Humans were selfish creatures, unable to understand how someone could act without self-interest or an ulterior motive, and they feared what they couldn't comprehend.
Archer knew this too well; after all, his death had been orchestrated by men who betrayed him, unable to understand the reason behind his actions, and thus they feared him.
He had learned a lesson from that ordeal: to have a selfless heart was impossible if one wanted to live with others. For people, a selfish opportunist was preferable to a selfless saint.
"What could we possibly give you besides our bodies? Our people don't use coins or other forms of currency that might interest you," Val said, almost resigned.
This didn't surprise Archer at all, as he had anticipated such a situation. From the little information he had managed to gather about life beyond the Wall, it was harsh beyond measure.
The people were organized into small tribes; there were no cities of any kind, and people survived mainly through hunting and fishing. Agriculture was almost nonexistent in any form.
In such a place, coins, gold, and silver were nearly useless. True wealth was food to fill one's stomach and furs to protect oneself from the cold. And without a real government to regulate the trade of these goods, their economy was based primarily on bartering.
"I'm willing to accept furs, rare metals, and precious stones," Archer proposed, knowing that aside from furs, nothing else was truly valuable to the free folk.
"We're willing to trade metals and stones, but we can't give up our furs," Val began negotiating, not allowing herself to be entirely blinded by the opening presented to her.
"I'm willing to add various provisions if you can part with some of the rarer furs," the boy added, surprising the two princesses with his offer.
Archer knew that the offer he had just made was far too tempting for them to refuse. They would obtain everything they desired without giving up anything truly valuable in return.
They would have achieved the same result if they had accepted the boy's initial offer, but while his extreme generosity had alarmed them and aroused suspicion, this second proposal had not.
This was due to a psychological concept: people were hesitant to trust someone who was too generous and altruistic without reason, but they were very willing to take advantage of an opponent they thought they had outwitted in a game of wits.
It was the same principle behind why people feared accepting something from a stranger but were happy and proud of haggling for a discount in a store.
It was a trick that Emiya had to rely on to make the two women accept his help, and it was also a way to let the Mormonts profit, as they would ultimately provide real assistance.
"We accept," Ygritte didn't waste time giving her consent, acting exactly as Archer had predicted.
"Perfect. Then start gathering your people, we'll be leaving shortly," the boy said, tossing the key to the chains to the women so they could free their companions.
Once they had the key, the two women wasted no time before rushing toward their people, eager to free them as quickly as possible. Their departure allowed Jorah, who had been observing from a distance until then, to approach.
"I don't think this is a good idea," the bear said, expressing his disapproval. The man had been clever enough to wait until the two women had left before making his discontent known.
"We can't trust them. They're savages."
"Right now, they're just poor souls who have suffered at the hands of the Greyjoys. Helping them is the right thing to do," Archer retorted.
"Justice and honor have never stopped the wildlings from raiding and killing. They're not much different from the Greyjoys in that regard," Jorah said with anger.
"Hatred and anger only blind you. Where you see enemies who attacked your home, I see only women, elders, and children ripped from theirs," Archer countered.
"Maybe it wasn't them now, but it doesn't change the fact that their people are guilty," Jorah continued with his argument.
"So, should I punish a man for someone else's sins just because they both belong to the same people?" Archer asked sarcastically, with disdain.
"It's in their nature to commit these acts. Tomorrow, those children you save will be the ones burning our homes and killing our men," Jorah prophesied with utmost certainty.
"Enough with this nonsense," Emiya growled, no longer tolerating the man's bigotry.
"I won't punish or condemn someone for something they might or might not do tomorrow."
"I'm telling you it's a certainty," the older man continued, trying to make the young man understand his point, bravely ignoring the hostility in Archer's voice, believing it was for his own good.
"Nothing is certain in this world except death, and even that is not immutable," Archer said, drawing on his millennia of experience, where he had seen and lived through all kinds of things. In the infinite multiverse, everything was possible, and nothing was certain not even immortals were exempt from change.
"I'm aware of the animosity men from the North hold against anyone from beyond the Wall. I'm not asking you to bury that hatred. Centuries of conflict don't disappear overnight, as if by magic. What I'm asking for is a little mercy for those innocent souls who are suffering right now," Archer pleaded, trying not to let the anger that Jorah's bigotry caused him take over, and instead attempting to reason with the man.
"My father will never accept this arrangement," Jorah tried another argument, hoping that mentioning his father, the old bear, would bring some weight to his words.
"Let me handle your father. Your job is to make sure the men don't do anything foolish while we're hosting our new guests," Archer ordered calmly.
"And what if I refuse?" Jorah attempted his last threat, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword to emphasize his stance.
"Then your father will find himself without an heir," Archer stated coldly, making the older man gulp loudly as he found himself staring into Archer's steel gray eyes, as cold and sharp as a thousand blades.
"You're a good man, Jorah. You just need to learn to see the bigger picture and not be blinded by the things right in front of you," Archer advised, walking past the terrified man.
Emiya knew that Jorah would no longer be a problem. His words, combined with the fear he had instilled in the man, would prevent him from going against his orders.
For the moment, the fragile coexistence between the northern men and the wildlings was preserved, but maintaining it would be an arduous task. The next challenge would certainly be convincing the old bear, who was far more resilient than his son, and convincing him wouldn't be easy.
Porting peace between two peoples who have hated each other for centuries was not an easy task. From his personal experience, the chances of two peoples with such a history reconciling were slim and only happened when common interests arose between them.
And without a formidable enemy threatening them, the only other way to bind their destinies was through economic means. Establishing a profitable trade between the two peoples would greatly reduce the tension between them and encourage their leaders to forge a solid and lasting peace to maintain those steady profits.
Even that wouldn't be easy. His first negotiations with the princesses had laid the foundation, but to move forward with his plans, Archer needed substantial funding. Only through that could he generate more wealth.
The problem was that, despite his noble lineage, Emiya didn't have a single coin to his name, and it would be difficult to find someone willing to invest in his projects.
To realize his plans, the boy would have to transform himself into an individual capable of generating wealth from nothing, like the alchemists of old who boasted of being able to turn lead into gold.
It was fortunate that, thanks to the knowledge he had acquired in countless lives and iterations with heroic spirits of every rank and kind, Archer already had a vague idea of what to do.
The first step would be convincing the old bear to follow his directives, hoping that he wouldn't be too angry to listen.
In what he hoped vividly would not become a habit, Emiya found himself seated in Lord Mormont's office, with the old bear himself and his heir glaring at him from behind the desk.
"I've already consulted with my son, and he has explained your actions to me in broad strokes, but I would still like to hear your version," said the old man wearily.
"There's not much to explain. As expected, the negotiation with the Greyjoys ended in bloodshed. Nevertheless, we managed to bring home a decent compensation," Archer briefly summarized.
"You forgot to mention how you created a weapon similar to wildfire and used it to sink the enemy ships without suffering any losses or how you defeated both Greyjoy brothers," Jorah said irritably, not amused by how the boy had given such a short and inconclusive report.
"Those are things you surely already reported yourself, and they're not the reason I've been summoned," Emiya clarified, explaining his behavior. The boy had known from the moment he set foot in the office what the true purpose of this meeting was.
"While I'm sure my exploits have piqued your interest, your more urgent concern is why I brought the wildlings to your shores," Archer revealed.
"Indeed, it is," Jeor admitted sincerely.
"As you well know, we don't have a good relationship with the wildlings, and your arrival with a ship full of them has only increased the tension."
"At this moment, your new friends are being held in custody on the ship. It's a precautionary measure to prevent any disorder," Jeor continued, his voice growing more tired as he explained the situation.
"This isn't something we can maintain for long; we need to find a solution as soon as possible," Jeor said.
"We need to get rid of them," Jorah said fiercely, making it clear, albeit not too subtly, how he intended to do this.
"My son is right. One way or another, this situation must end," Jeor agreed.
"I gave my word that I would take them home. Let me do that, and you'll have your problem solved," Archer promptly proposed.
"And leave one of my ships and crew to venture into enemy territory with no guarantee of return?" Jeor asked sarcastically.
"I'd be solving one problem only to create another."
"As much as I hate to say it, selling them as slaves might be the best solution," Jorah suggested, avoiding looking Emiya in the eye as he made the proposal, well aware of the boy's stance on the matter.
"That might be the more humane solution compared to killing them or abandoning them on a deserted place," Jeor admitted.
"If you're so eager to rid yourselves of this burden, I'm more than willing to take it on," Archer proposed.
"And how do you intend to provide for them? You have no land, no money, or even a name that can support your intentions. If we followed your plan, the people would think the change was only formal, and that the wildlings are still under our supervision," Jeor pointed out, explaining that, as a bastard, Archer didn't have the resources needed to carry out his plan.
"That's true. As a bastard, I have nothing but my mind and my arm," Emiya said with a smile.
"Gold, knowledge, power nothing is impossible to obtain for me, and through me," Archer's voice carried a certainty that left no doubt in his words.
"With your talents, I have no doubt that in the future you'll achieve all that and much more, but that doesn't change the fact that the problem is now, and we can't wait for the future to resolve it," Jeor said, ever the realist.
"Give me a week, and I'll bring you enough gold not only to buy the wildlings' freedom but also to cover any other expenses related to them," Archer proposed, leaving the two men incredulous, as they couldn't understand how someone could obtain so much in such a short time.
"And if you fail, would you give up on your plans and leave it to us?" Jorah asked bluntly.
"My son is blunt, but he's not wrong. If you fail, what's to stop you from asking for more time?" Jeor added, sharing his concern.
"The truth is, you don't believe I'm capable of carrying out what I've said," Archer said amused, not at all offended by the two men's lack of trust. After all, their skepticism was perfectly understandable.
"You're right," Jeor admitted, once again showing the bluntness for which the men of the North were known.
"Give me a week, and I'll show you not only that what I've said is true but that I also have the means to bring you a future brighter than you can imagine," Archer promised, with a smile on his lips.
"And if you fail?" Jeor asked again.
"Then I'll renounce all my ambitions and spend the rest of my days under your tutelage, obeying every command without complaint or rebellion," Emiya promised.
At the boy's latest promise, Jeor fell into a contemplative silence, his cold, calculating eyes seeming to try to peer into the soul of his young protégé.
"Master, I don't understand what we're doing," Maya asked, confused.
The fact that she expressed her confusion was a good sign for Archer; it meant that, at least in part, he had been successful in freeing the girl from her programming.
Another sign of this process was the fact that the woman had expressed her displeasure when she was left on the island while Archer departed for the meeting with the ironborn.
Little by little, Maya seemed to be regaining emotions and feelings.
"Wouldn't it have been better to kill all the infidels to achieve the same result?" Yet her fanaticism remained unchanged, or perhaps even increased, as if each day she spent in Archer's company only solidified her convictions.
"Better, I don't think so; easier, certainly, at first," Emiya replied honestly as they trudged along the narrow mountain paths adorning one of the shores of Mormont Island.
Archer's words may have seemed cold and cruel, but to him, they represented the truth. Emiya knew all too well what could be achieved through force and fear; history was full of men who had attained power this way.
Dictators, warlords, tyrants—the world was full of individuals like that, men who had taken what seemed to them the easiest path to power. All these people had one thing in common: their kingdoms were never peaceful, no matter how splendid they appeared at first.
With this knowledge, it was natural that Archer was wary of using massive amounts of force and violence to achieve his goals. Not only did it go against everything he believed in, but in the long run, it was more harmful than helpful.
"Death is not always the solution," Archer said to the girl, shocked that what she believed to be the god of death could say such a thing.
"Remember, death is the final journey for every man, and it should not be granted lightly; otherwise, it loses its purpose and meaning." It was fortunate that Emiya was a skilled actor, able to convince the woman that even these seemingly blasphemous words were in line with his persona.
"I understand my lord," Maya said, full of admiration, completely believing Archer's words.
"Good. We've arrived, we can stop here," Emiya ordered, having finally reached their destination after what seemed like hours of marching.
In front of them was a clear stream flowing down from the high mountains of the island. Thanks to this, Archer would not only keep his word but also manage to gather enough wealth to become independent.
"What should I do?" Maya asked as she set down the large bag she had been carrying until then.
"Let's unpack our equipment for now," the boy ordered, already beginning to do so.
From their large bags, they pulled out what looked like enormous ram skins.
"And now?" the girl asked again.
"Now we gather gold," Archer said as he turned toward the river with one of the skins.
Although she didn't understand her master's intentions, Maya quickly obeyed, not understanding how they could find gold with those skins.
The girl couldn't know it, but the method they were using to collect the precious metal was an ancient system used by Greek shepherds, and according to many, it was the basis for the legends of the Golden Fleece.
A myth, a dream that seemed unattainable was now about to become reality, all thanks to a man who, once again, made the impossible possible all in pursuit of something even more unlikely:
PAX.
Here I am again, I apologize for the delay but the last few months have been exhausting I had very little time to write.
At this time I also tried to find a solution to the problem of the quality of the translation of the chapters since English is not my first language. I hope I found it, this chapter should in fact be more fluent and with fewer errors. Let me know via the comments if the quality has improved or if I have to go back to the old method.
As always, the next chapter is already available on my p a /RedArcher739
P a treon . com(slash)RedArcher739
Next chapter: Sword of People