The ride to the Wall turned out to be less of a grim slog through snow and mud than I had anticipated. Instead, we only had to deal with slight winds as we pressed further north. I took point, flanked by Jon and Theon, while Jory, Tom, Bernard, and the remainder of our group formed a steady line behind us. The landscape around us blurred into a vast expanse of white, the road beneath merely a faint scar cutting through the drifts.
I reached out to Hedwig, slipping into his mind with an ease that felt almost second nature now. His wings beat rhythmically against the frigid air, and his keen eyes sliced through the snowfall. From his vantage point above, the world stretched out like an intricate map, twisting paths, frozen streams, and the Wall glimmering like a beacon on the distant horizon. I could see no other group than our own today, just the breathtaking beauty of the snowy North. I guided him along our path, ensuring we stayed true to course, before releasing him, his warmth fading from my senses.
What a useful bond this was, I mused, a small smile creeping onto my lips. It was always amazing to warg into Hedwig, A bird's eye view to chart our course, to scan what lay ahead. It was no wonder the old tales both celebrated and feared wargs; this power felt like a cheat in a medieval world. Even in my previous life, I knew of certain types of birds who could be trained to scout troop movements, but experiencing the world through the eyes of a bird itself was a different kind of advantage altogether. With Hedwigs bird's-eye view, it felt as if I were playing a real-time strategy game again, observing the little characters that were, in reality, me and my companions, and navigating the vastness below it was truly one of the most unique feelings I had ever experienced and I could not help but always gain a smile after it.
Jon caught my grin, raising an eyebrow. "Hedwig?"
"Aye," I replied, "Yes, it's one of the greatest. feelings ever. John and I know you'll be able to experience it soon enough as well.
Theon, hunched against the gusts, grumbled, "Bloody owl's smarter than I am right now. Wish I could just fly above this mess, I could also see the advantage of having such a bird out on the open ocean as well. Perhaps you can train one for me He says with a question.
"Perhaps I could teach you how to train your own bird". I say back to him, giving John. a knowing look in a wink, I had thought about teaching Theon about warging and seeing if he could use the ability as well, as I could only imagine a Grayjoy with the ability to warg into a shark or bird on an open ocean. The advantages and naval combat would be astounding. Let alone just the Navigational advantage it would allow.
When we finally reached the Wall days later, it loomed before us like an ancient titan—a sheer cliff of ice that dwarfed everything beneath it. Castle Black sprawled at its base, a grim collection of stone and timber. I gazed toward the other sides, unable to even see the specks of Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower, truly grasping how massive this legendary wall was. Benjen stood at the gates, his cloak dusted with snow, his smile weary but genuine.
"Robb, Jon," he greeted us, clasping my arm firmly. "You've made it."
"Indeed, we have. I couldn't wait. Once my father gave his permission and orders, we left," I said. "The North doesn't wait for anyone, not even me." I laughed, aware of how important my mission here was for her.
As we entered, Benjen led us into the Lord Commander's chambers, where Jeor Mormont sat behind a scarred table. His imposing figure was slouched yet commanding, a bear of a man in his own right. I looked around the room, hoping to spot his raven.
"Stark," he grunted, studying me intently. "Your father's saddled you with a hell of a task."
"I can handle it," I answered, straightening up. As I did, I finally heard the raven repeat, "Task, task," as it flew from the rafters to Jeor's arms. "The North needs this," I added, holding Jeor's gaze.
Mormont's eyes remained steady on me as he nodded slowly. "The Watch isn't thrilled about it, I'll tell you that. Most think it's lunacy to let wildlings and giants through, even if it's only a very specific clan. But the veterans—older brothers—they understand what's to be gained from this. Fewer reasons to fight. You Starks, instead of supporting you, I'll keep the black brothers in line who think they know better, lad. The Starks have our respect, and they always will. If you pull this off, it'll be good for both the North and the Wall."
"Thank you, Lord Commander," I said, feeling the weight of his words settle on me. "I assure you, I won't fail you, my father, the North, or the old gods," I said, leaning into my more devout side.
With a wave of his hand, he dismissed my sentiment. "See that you don't."
At first light the next day, we passed through the Wall's tunnel. The ice pressed close, its chill trying to seep into my bones, but I felt little effect. Beyond the tunnel, the Haunted Forest loomed, its gnarled trees clawing at the sky as we made our way to our meeting place. When we reached the clearing of the heart tree, with its white bark stark against the snow and its red leaves dripping like blood, I almost didn't notice the Thenns and giants waiting there, their figures shadowed in the dawn.
Styr, Magnar of the Thenns, stepped forward, his bald head gleaming and his bronze armor etched with harsh lines. Beside him stood a towering giant, Magmar, his craggy face weathered and his eyes deep with memory. I dismounted, my boots sinking into the snow. My step to the sidewalking towards Tom's horse, and taking the Stark Banner pole off of it. Carrying it as I approached, the Old Tongue rough on my lips.
"I am Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell," I announced, my words sharp and guttural. "I offer you land south of the Wall and peace under my house's banner. Swear to my father and to House Stark, and I will grant you my protection. I will give you my loyalty and my sword. My victories will be your victories, and your sorrows will become my sorrows. I come to you offering this because your clan has proven its strength, knowledge, and will to thrive even beyond the Wall. You also have the favor of the Old Gods, with giants by your side. I want that for my house and for all of the North—to rekindle the Stark relationship with the giants and gain a powerful and resourceful ally in you, the Thenns. This, I swear in front of the Old Gods. May they strike me if I lie." I finished as I planted my Stark banner in the snowy ground beside me.
Styr's gaze was like flint. The others surrounding him looked surprised, whether by my words or by my ability to speak their tongue, I could not tell. Interestingly enough, the giant's eyes looked more understanding than theirs. "Words are wind, Stark. Whether they are spoken in our tongue or yours. Why should I trust you, who have hunted us and fought us for generations? Have you reconciled with the Old Gods to not kill us, First Men?"
I replied almost immediately, trying to maintain the momentum and convey my genuine intentions. "I wish to strengthen the North, and your clan is a way to do that. I wish to reclaim the trust that my ancestors had with the giants who built the Wall and defeated the Long Night. Together with a Stark," I said, nodding to the giants, "I hope to strengthen the ties with the Old Gods and their creatures once more." As I spoke, Hedwig, with a screech, flew down from the sky and landed on my shoulder. "I wish for the Old Tongue not to be so old and for giants to be more than myth again. I dream of the North that defeated the Andals for thousands of years, and held to the old gods with nothing being able to bend us. I believe the Old Gods have guided me to you for that reason. If you pledge to follow the North's laws and the laws of Westeros, I will swear guest right to your clan. I will welcome you by my father and our house, to establish your clan as a house that serves us as we serve you. You would bend to no one other than the Starks, though you will respect all the laws that we live by. You may not be able to trust me, but you should, simply because I am here as a Stark for the first time in over a hundred years, offering the passage of a clan to come south of the Wall, and friendship and protection to the giants. What must I do to prove myself to you?" I continued, gesturing to the heart tree, its face watching us. "I speak your tongue, and will honor your ways wherever I can. The Starks and the giants raised this Wall that now separates us, even though we bled for it together. I'd see that strength reborn."
Magmar shifted at that, his voice a low rumble. "Good words, Little brave wolf. We... hoped Stark remembered. Thought maybe... Stark forgot Bran Builder's tale. Glad you want to be strong with us again. The Old Gods... are with you, I can feel."
I nodded, meeting his gaze. I did not know what exactly he meant by that, but I would take it. "Aye, Magmar. We shall stand as one, giants and Stark, again," I said once more in the Old Tongue, with a small nod forward, noticing how the Thenns were reacting to how fast it seemed the giants had accepted my offer.
Styr's eyes narrowed. "Oaths need proof. Fight me, Stark. Strength for strength."
I'd known it'd come to this. "Agreed," I said, my hand on my sword. "Right here, right now, in front of the heart tree, so that the Old Gods may watch and not be kept waiting," I added, to seem more in control.
The duel commenced shortly after that, with the snow crunching underfoot as Styr faced me. His axe was a brutal curve of steel with a handle of bronze. I could not help but wonder where he got that axe, though it did not seem to be of the highest quality. I knew steel was still very rare south of the Wall. The Thenns and giants around us, along with my men, formed a circle arena for us, their breaths clouding the air, the giants looming like fur-made statues. I will win, I thought to myself, slowing my breathing as I drew my sword, its weight a steady and familiar anchor, my pulse thrumming with the fight to come.
He charged, his axe swinging in a wide arc, the force shuddering through my blade as I parried. Snow sprayed around us, the clash of steel ringing sharply. He was a bull, all power and fury, his strikes hammering at my guard. I danced back, breath fogging, waiting for an opening. My training and a past life's instincts still guided me; my almost supernatural reflexes and strength hummed within me. As I parried, dodged, and deflected all his anger-filled and testing blows, my calm and assuredness of my victory kept me cold and steady. Finally, he overreached, his axe biting deep into the snow. I took the opening for what it was and lunged, my sword flashing to his side. He twisted, letting out a growl, but I pressed, driving him back step by step, taking advantage of his more drained and tired state as I pushed my chance to dominate him to show my own ferocity.
The end came fast after yet another of my strikes caused his footing to slip and him to fall forward. A curse in the Old Tongue tore from him as I kneed him in the stomach hard and elbowed his head down. Then, I brought my arms back, and with a guttural roar, I swung my sword in a fierce step forward, screaming, "YIELD TO ME!" I saw his eyes go wide with what would soon be an attempted beheading with my unnatural strength. I just barely stopped the tip at his throat's side, causing a small nick to bleed onto my sword's tip, my chest heaving. "Yield," I rasped, staring hard into Styr's cold eyes.
He glared at me, his anger palpable on his face, then dropped his axe, the snow almost swallowing it. "You win, Stark," he spoke in resignation.
The wildlings roared, a mix of cheers and grudging respect. But I could also hear my own party—Theon, Jon, Tom, and Banared—screaming and hollering my name. As I glanced over my shoulder, I even saw Jory with his eyes wide, giving me an astonished but proud look. Styr stood, brushing snow from his armor. "You've got a warrior's talent and a king's heart, Stark," he says, as he takes his hand and rubs it at the slight cut I made on his throat to get some of his blood on his hand. He smears some on his heart and then grips my forearm with it. "We will swear by the old gods," he says, causing the crowd to cheer and roar even more.
Magmar then lumbered forward to me, a smile cracking his face, "which I thought looked a bit cartoonish on a giant's face". "Strong... this wolf is," he says. "Gift of our oath... to you, a Stark, is needed. Name this gift... you will care for it... us giants will." He stepped to the side and I saw what I think he had in mind for a gift, which honestly left me feeling a bit out of breath for I with all my thinking never thought of this. Before me was a baby mammoth, its tiny trunk curling, eyes bright as it took me in. I let a bit of me stretch out as I took some steps forward; its height almost coming a little under my head. I felt it react to me, trying to form a bond with it. It looked at me once more in my eyes before giving me a trumpet, as if telling me he is strong and brave. As I felt my bond take place with it, and as it does, a name came to me which almost makes me laugh in memory. Manny, I think to myself, and push his new name through the bond as I think of a strong and loyal main character from a childhood movie who also lived in a world of ice.
I took my hands, keeping them steady despite the ache in my arms, as I patted Manny on the head. "Thank you, Magmar. This gift will bind us."
That night we decided to make camp with the Thenns at the meeting place and head back to the Wall the next day after celebrating for the night. Fires blazing as songs in the Old Tongue filled the air. I was able to talk with Jon and Theon, who told me how amazing my fight was, that it was something out of one of old Nan's tales, and how dramatic my speech was as well, though I could tell they were happy for me all the same. Jory took a moment, though to pull me aside and say that I had truly grown and had surpassed all his expectations that he had in me and that he knew Father would have been so proud to see me fight for the Starks house honor and the North's future, which meant a lot to me. As I felt almost empty, it was so weird. I was happy that I had won but it was just so much weight that had been taken off my shoulders or perhaps the adrenaline leaving me had finally caught up, but even with the happy atmosphere I felt like I wanted to be alone so I slipped away, finding the heart tree looming above me, its red leaves whispering in the wind, and I let my thoughts spill free.
This was more than a plan coming together. I had changed the North's path, pulled Thenns south of the Wall, and saved the giants from fading into myth. Another victory, stacked atop the others, a foundation for the war I'd face when the four other kings came calling, but I couldn't help but be excited. They had no idea what was coming for them. In the show, Robb had surprised them all. I could not wait to do more than that and by the old gods with Manny, just the sight of him grown or at least big enough to ride, thundering into battle or at least riding ahead of an army with me astride his Mammoth back, a savage green boy from the North avenging his father. I smirked, imagining what Tywin's face would look like and thinking I could really find out if he shit gold. I was truly just happy I was able to accomplish this, I thought to myself as the wind whistled through the heart tree branches overhead. I swear I caught the sight of golden eyes looking at me from behind the tree, but the image soon dissipated as I made my way back to camp to finish celebrating with the others.