A Song of Grace & Fury

(A/N: As a man of my word, here you go y'all.)

Here's the invite for the discord, so I can be reminded to write any time of the day.

https://discord.gg/nbWz6YhZ

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I rubbed my hands together, dangling my feet off a glacial cliff as I watched the Sun peek from behind distant snow-capped mountains. Down below, the depths disappeared into distant shadows that seemed to coil and turn just out of eyeshot, settling in silence when I turned to stare.

Expectedly, there was little to be found in the wild lands beyond the Wall except for woods and mountains and a few frozen lakes. The vegetation died out past The Haunted Forest, and little remained except for some patches of dry grasses in rocky valleys.

But, it was quite beautiful to look at, with glassy streams of ice water spurting from glaciers, peaks that pierced the wispy clouds above, and valleys painted puffy white by thick sheets of snow. A sight unmarred by the hands of men.

Nothing except nature's fiercest was out in this 'cold' place... and the Night's Watch of course, as well as some small game that stayed in the forests close to the wall. Oh, and a strange species of overgrown cat, dark and black with white stripes and claws so massive they would tear my young companion apart with but a jab.

Of course, that possibility seemed fleeting considering Roach tore the throat of the last one that worked up the courage to attack us before burning it and then eating the roasted carcass.

But, admittedly, it was nowhere near as cold as the people made it sound, even by human standards. It was a harsh land, but not one that couldn't be lived in at all. Though, I supposed agriculture would be a problem.

I cast a glance over my shoulder, at the sleeping Jon Snow all wrapped up in his dark fur cloak, and sighed. He was enjoying those red flames a bit too much. Personally, I had little need for sleep past the fleeting sense of peace it brought.

My mind wandered to my younger days, and it rarely ever did.

Death to claws, to stone, to blades, to arrows, to earth, to water and to ice and to fire and to all else imaginable. Then to all unimaginable.

Countless sleepless nights and days. Memories of a war unceasing. Ruin. Destruction. The deaths of entire peoples. A centuries long crusade for dominion and a better world. Stupid dreams. Naive and foolish loyalty.

And then... confusion.

When foolish loyalty turned to seething hatred and disappointment, I had expected to be discarded like a tool like many others before me. Yet, the God-Queen who made machinations of her own progeny had wept silent tears, she had tried to dissuade me with promises and assurances and more promises.

It was so, so very odd.

Humming, I chewed on jerky from an aurochs.

Beings as aged us did not-... could not, treasure others in the way those with fleeting lives did. But then again, change wasn't a part of our existence either yet I had made its inevitability part of mine.

A younger me would never have stopped to consider the world's beauty, or enjoyed conversation, or paid heed to the smaller things that made life so great. I did. That change had been hastened by the peace of this world.

Reeling my head to stare at the blue sky, I spread my senses ever so slightly.

I smiled and rose to my feet, dusting the snow off my breeches. "Roach, look after the boy till he wakes up. I think I just caught the scent of our illusive friends."

Roach grumbled, stomping about his rear legs.

"I can take back the blessing, you know?" I narrowed my eyes. "Maybe it's time I change horses?"

Wisdom flashed through golden eyes as Roach lowered his head. Just when I thought it was being nice though, the damn thing reared its head and bared its fangs, as though he were grinning.

"Is that a dare? I hope you realise you're not the only one I've given a blessing to."

Roach cocked his head, confused.

"A small one. For vigour and a bit of speed."

I had learnt the ins-and-outs fairly quickly after Roach, and finely controlling how much of my power I harnessed made up a great part of my prowess as a combatant. So, I had left just a small gift to the newest knight I'd helped join the Stark household.

"Bess is going to be hella jealous." I laughed to myself, trailing behind the distant scent of burning wood.

The terrain this far North was difficult and confusing, Skirling Pass more so for all the mountain passes and valleys sprinkled throughout it. The howling winds sounded more like shrieks and howls as they passed through the numerous caverns and crevices throughout the place.

I cast a glance to the side, where the Wall stood tall, shimmering in the light of the Sun.

And, there was one thing most of the Night's Watch had somehow missed, or critically underestimated.

There were caves, a lot of caves, in these mountains. Old, dusty, but large and spacious.

I suspected that was how the wildlings traversed them with such speed.

...Not that I had any need for them.

The terrain was difficult to traverse... for men.

It didn't matter much when I could just burn my way through a mountain, melting the very Earth to make a path. It was how I chose to move, chewing on jerky that I'd stowed away in my satchel.

Soon enough, I came out on the other side, on a hill overlooking a large encampment. I stepped over to the edge and looked down, curious and amused.

Innumerable teepees had been erected in a clearing, with heads of animals and some of men impaled atop wooden stakes and spears spread about. Black smoke billowed to the sky from large fires, where meats and skins were being readied. A wall of dark, tall trees shielded the encampment from one side but there was little in the way of defense.

Evidently, they didn't expect to be attacked out here... or so I'd have thought were it not for the terse air hanging about the people.

Rough, scarred faces moved about, dressed in animal furs and rudimentary leathers with weapons of wood and the rare bronze but little iron or steel. Their spears were too short to be used in any formation, and the bows looked like they were meant for hunting... but, that had never really mattered when it came to such forms of warfare.

I could see a number of ongoing fights and arguments from where I stood.

What I saw only enforced the truth of what I had heard and learnt about these folks.

"Well... even if they aren't savages, they certainly aren't trying to help the image." I crouched down, narrowing my eyes.

A man slit the throat of another, and no one batted a single eye.

"Huh."

I noticed one more thing. Their numbers were nowhere NEAR one hundred thousand like Jon Snow claimed.

And... huh.

Some kind of giant people...

Suddenly, I caught a strange scent.

"Is that human mea-"

A sharp blade pressed into my neck, followed by the negligible weight of a human body.

"Are you trying to tackle m-..."

A grunt and a swift blow to the back of my head followed.

"Okay, now that was just rude," I unceremoniously tossed my assailant over my shoulder with a hand and sent him tumbling down the snowy hill. A moment later, I heard the ugly squelch of a twisted neck.

Arrows whirred through the air, and really, they weren't even a bother. But, they would have ruined my clothes. I twisted my arm and grabbed three arrows out of the air, noting their head to be animal bone as one flew past my tilted head.

"How do you expect to win against Stannis with this?" I commented, pointing a hand at myself, "You see me standing in snow, with nothing but a tunic, and... what was your first thought? We can definitely take the guy staking out our whole encampment by himself?" I pointed to the hole in the mountain behind me. "Where do you think that came from?"

"Kneeler! Bend, or die."

"Fuck you too, illiterate schmuck," I chuckled. "Mance Rayder. Parley. Wait no, that might be too complicated."

My answer was another two arrows I had to grab before they ruined my clothes.

A glance over my shoulder revealed that the encampment had begun to take note of me.

"Seems I'm right. Mance Rayder." I waved my hand in front of my face. "Talk. King Stannis. Me."

Stitched leathers, animal furs, wooden armaments.

The one in the middle started to move but before he could, the ground started trembling. Loud booms and stomps followed and I turned around just in time to spot a stone club the size of a man barreling towards... my face.

It brought up some unpleasant memories.

Specifically involving fire giants the size of hills and small mountains.

"Oh come on. I stole these clothes off a nob-..."

Naturally, I smashed my forehead into the club, and blew through the stone. It crumbled, and the shrapnel exploded like splintered wood. The so-called 'giant' let out a deafening roar as it stumbled back, moaning and gripping his bent arm.

"Never again."

One of the fire giants had once kicked me down a mountain, it was never happening again.

"Any other takers?" I turned to stare at the Wildlings with a small smile, tossing their arrows aside.

They shouted amongst themselves in some strange language. Then, with all the bravery of a people who had grown up in harsh lands, knowing only blood and slaughter, they dropped their weapons and ran off shouting.

I shrugged.

"Smart."

"Indeed. They know when they are outmatched and live to fight another day."

Turning around, I was faced with a tall woman, her form hidden by a white bearskin cloak and thick furs of the same dye. She clutched a few dead rabbits in the crook of her arm, and leaned on a bronze-tipped spear as she looked me up and down with amused but cautious misty blue eyes. I could see strands of bright blonde hair poking out from the cloth wrapped around her face.

"Now, what is it you want of the free folk, kneeler lord?"

"At least someone speaks with words," I sighed.

-

Hope you enjoyed.

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